The New Heir
by Baron Munchausen
Summary: The entail is thrown into disarray once more after the tragedies of Matthew's accident and his baby's death from diphtheria soon after. Murray's researches discover there is only one living heir - and it is someone the Crawley family cannot accept, except perhaps for Edith: Sir Anthony Strallan. This is a storyline I have been toying with for some time. Tell me what you think!
1. Chapter 1

Robert was in the library shouting at Mr Murray.

"It is less than a month since Matthew was killed, and less than a fortnight since his son died. Why do we have to do this now?"

"Lord Grantham, I am very sorry for your recent losses, but dreadful as they have been, you cannot ignore this for much longer."

"Very well" Robert sighed. "Do what you have to do."

Murray left.

Since Matthew's accident, life at Downton had been chaotic, even more so than after Sybil's death, perhaps because it had been the second such tragic, pointless death of someone young to have blighted the Crawleys. They were more traumatised by what had happened to Matthew _because_ of Sybil's death.

When little Robert Matthew had died of diphtheria a fortnight after his father, the real hysteria had begun. Mary was still in shock. Cora was distraught with grief but even more heartbroken because she felt so powerless to comfort Mary. There were fearful whispers below stairs of tragedy coming in threes.

Tom, who'd had his own wounds reopened, sleepwalked through his days and threw himself further into work on the estate while Robert lost all sense of the meaning or purpose of his life.

Now he had no known heir once more. Murray had turned up worrying about the entail _again_, and was determined to look at the family tree to find some distant cousin, but Robert had little hope. Deep down he knew it was important to settle it as quickly as possible, that finding an heir was the only way to see a future for any of them.

Edith, as ever, was left to cope on her own as best she could. She found herself things to do supporting Cora, Violet, and Isobel especially. Her column for _The Sketch_ took a back seat and her friendship with Michael Gregson began to wane. She may not have always loved, or even liked, Mary but even Edith wouldn't wish this series of catastrophes on her.

* * *

_._

Three weeks later, Murray asked for a meeting with Lord Grantham. Robert thought everyone should hear what he had to say, so had asked Violet, Cora, Isobel, Mary, Edith, and Tom to be present. After the usual greetings, and everyone had settled down Murray began to speak.

"I bring information that I fear none of you will find welcome, my lord."

"Murray, the last time we had to have this conversation I did not welcome your news, but Matthew turned out to be the best thing to happen to this family for a long time. Perhaps this will turn out well, despite everything."

"That is for you to decide, my lord. There is an heir. As you all know, the Earldom of Grantham is old enough to have the unusual, but by no means unique, characteristic that, should the male lines die out, the title can be inherited through the female lines. After Mr Matthew and his son, there are no successors by the male lines. The heir we have found is in actual fact the _only_ heir by the female lines. Thus if you, Lord Grantham, and he die without male issue, the Earldom would become defunct. In 1810, a sister of the third Earl married a local nobleman and landowner, local matches being more common then than now. It is through her and the male line from her that the new heir is related to you."

"Go on, tell us his name."

"Murray took a deep breath.

"His name is Sir Anthony Strallan."

After the initial shock, everyone looked at Edith, who had gone very pale but otherwise didn't react. Violet, however, exploded.

"You must have made a mistake, Murray."

"I sincerely hoped I had, Lady Grantham. So I had the College of Arms look over it as well. There is no mistake."

"But he can't…he just can't!" Violet spluttered.

"Why not, Granny?" asked Edith. "Is your disapproval not just your conscience aching?"

"Nonsense, child. He betrayed you. For that alone he does not deserve to inherit the title of Grantham."

"Whether he deserves to inherit or not is immaterial, Lady Grantham" started Murray.

Edith stood. "No matter. I think we should all just get on with accepting what has to be, don't you agree Mr Murray?"

"Exactly, my lady" Murray agreed.

"Does Sir Anthony know?" she asked.

"Not yet" Murray answered. "I will write to him this afternoon."

Mary was quiet throughout the meeting until Murray had left. Then she got up to return to her room, whispering to Edith as she went past.

"Bad luck again, Edith. It appears neither of us is destined to be Countess of Grantham."

It was only then that Edith lost control and had to fight against the tears. She couldn't care less about being the Countess of Grantham. If only she could have been Lady Edith Strallan she would have lived with Anthony in a hovel and been grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

_._

Robert read Murray's letter again.

_My Lord,  
It appears that, following the failure of his wedding to Lady Edith, Sir Anthony Strallan left Locksley and went to the continent indefinitely. I have sent letters to the last three hotels where it is known he stayed, as well as to his estate manager and his solicitor. If I receive a response, I will inform you immediately._

_ I remain, etc.  
George Murray_

At least the Crawleys would have a little time to get used to the idea thought Robert. In the meantime, he would really have to try to get used to the new methods that Matthew had instigated on the estate, and which Tom was pursuing with an evangelical vigour. It was bringing Robert and Tom to loggerheads on an almost daily basis, but this time Robert really did think that things were going too far too fast. The tenants themselves were beginning to bring their discomfort to Robert's attention.

On top of all that, Mary was letting her grief sour her relations with everyone around her, even Carson. Robert didn't know what to do to help her. She pushed the old butler away as vigorously as she did anyone, and that just wasn't like her.

* * *

_._

Edith sat in her bedroom, looking at the engagement photograph that had been taken of her and Anthony so many months ago. She looked so happy, they were so close, and he was so handsome, although there was a sadness playing on his features even then, something akin to unworthiness. He had thought he didn't deserve her, but it hadn't always been so. Before the War - before his confidence had been crushed by injury and prejudice - things had been different between them. Even now, she didn't actually know how he had come to be wounded. He didn't talk about his experiences in France, shrugging them off with a wave of his left hand and a 'the same as everyone else, really' response to any queries. She had loved him so much, and known him so little. They had been engaged only a month and had not bared their souls to each other at all; they were both too hurt and shy for that. It had made Anthony's insecurities easy for him to hide; it had made it easy for them to overwhelm him. She wondered where he was. Would she ever see him again? If Murray couldn't find him...

* * *

_._

Half a continent away, Sir Anthony Strallan was looking at another copy of the same photograph, battered and curling at the edges from where it lived in his inside pocket of whatever jacket he happened to be wearing. He had hoped that a version of the Grand Tour might help to ease the pain, and provide distractions. Well, at least there had been distractions, but of a very plain, boring type: art galleries, concerts and opera, libraries, visiting the British Ambassadors in Paris, Madrid, Lisbon, and now Rome. He had even been on the receiving end of a flirtation with a Dowager Comtesse in Cannes, despite all of his polite, but ever increasingly forceful, refusals. Despite the distractions, the pain remained.

But he knew that if Catherine the Great, or even Helen of Troy, had set her cap at him, he would not have been able to respond to her. His chest was empty; his heart lived with Edith wherever she was. He was not capable of feeling love for any other woman.

The newspapers were vague about her relationship with the Editor of _The Sketch_, Michael Gregson, calling her his 'constant companion' whatever that meant, although he feared he knew. He just wished they would announce their engagement and follow it quickly with a wedding then he would know he had lived through the worst. Staying in Italy was getting uncomfortable; he was reminded at every turn why he wanted to bring Edith here on honeymoon. He might even return to Locksley. He missed the English countryside and his own estate particularly. He kept recalling Browning. At least Browning was exiled to Italy because he had eloped with the love of his life. Anthony looked around at the hotel coffee room and realised he hadn't spoken to anyone other than his valet or a waiter for the best part of a week. Perhaps it was time to move on again, but where to go? France had been a mistake – there were too many reminders of the recent conflict, too much destruction and heartbreak still evident. Germany was out of the question for the same reason. Although he had loved the country and its culture before the War, he had heard terrible reports of what was going on there now, and his arm ached with just the thought of going back to Vienna. Africa? Egypt perhaps? Interesting things were going on there. Carnarvon was funding expeditions all over the place and remarkable finds were depicted in the papers. Or America? Or India?

Suddenly he wasn't keen on going anywhere anymore. He put off the decision for another day.

* * *

_._

The next day the letter from Murray arrived, forwarded from several other establishments where he'd stayed around Italy. Anthony was stunned.

He was well aware of his family history, but had not appreciated that all other, nearer claimants for the Earldom of Grantham were deceased. The possibility that he might become the heir apparent had never occurred to him. He had somehow missed the death of Matthew and Mary's son, although he had seen the newspaper reports of Matthew's accident, and he thought of them all: all the Crawley family, in that brooding monster of a house, dealing with their misfortune and grief.

Most of all he thought of Edith. Was anyone looking after her? He didn't suppose so. She had lost the sister she was closest to, and now had lost her most powerful ally in the house; the last person she could call a friend. She had Gregson though, and although his heart stung at the thought that it wasn't him there to comfort her, he was glad she wasn't alone.

It took a full day of thinking before he made his decision. He would return to Yorkshire. He would face up to meeting Robert, and if that meant meeting Edith again…his breath stalled at the thought in equal agony and ecstasy. _Oh, Edith!_


	3. Chapter 3

Mary hadn't spoken to Edith for a few days. This was not unusual. They just naturally didn't have much to say to each other. It wasn't this that had Mary worried. She'd shouted at Carson again that morning over some trivial matter and the force of her feelings had frightened her. She didn't understand what had happened to her. Usually she found it so easy to be restrained in her feelings, but since she'd lost her husband and son – everything she had ever really wanted and loved – she had lost control of her emotions. She had not always liked herself in the past, and she'd done things that she regretted, but she had never felt as ashamed of herself as she did now. What was her purpose now? Who actually needed her?

* * *

_._

"Ah, Sir Anthony!"

"Good morning Mr Murray." Anthony greeted him politely as he was shown into Murray's London office after a week of travelling.

"It's very good of you to drop in. Are you on your way back to Yorkshire?"

"Yes" Anthony said with uncertainty.

"You have misgivings? That is natural."

"I do not relish the thought, I admit" replied Anthony feeling that vagueness was safe and discretion the better part of valour. But Murray had guessed what worried him. As a solicitor, he was used to divining what was not said by his clients, and saying awkward family secrets aloud in the least uncomfortable way for them.

"You perhaps worry what your reception will be at Grantham, and with certain members of the Crawley family in particular?"

Anthony nodded.

"I won't lie to you, Sir Anthony. When I told them of my findings, no one seemed overjoyed at the prospect that you may inherit the title."

"I don't blame them. I'm not all that happy myself."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Sir Anthony. I hardly need remind you that, under English law, you cannot renounce the title should you succeed to it.* Of course, you could ignore all the duties and responsibilities that come with it, and ruin Downton Abbey and everyone who lives and works on the estate, but that would be your choice."

Anthony sat up quite straight.

"I hope I have always acted in the best interests of those affected by my decisions, and this, should it come to pass, will be no different. I know my duty."

Murray shifted a little more uneasily in his chair before he spoke again.

"Speaking of which, Lord Grantham has asked me to discuss with you a topic that is of the utmost importance to him, and, in my professional capacity, to me. You are the last living heir. Should you die without issue the title will become extinct. Both Lord Grantham and his mother are very keen that this should not happen."

Anthony stared at the man with horrified fascination. Robert and the Dowager were now _expecting_, (or more likely _ordering_), him to marry and sire an heir? After all that they did to sabotage his marriage to Edith? He couldn't believe it.

"Do they have someone particular in mind?" he asked in a tone of voice as near to sarcasm as he ever got.

"If you are asking whether they expect you to go through with your previously planned wedding to Lady Edith, the answer is 'no'. I believe Lady Edith is…otherwise involved."

That stung. Oh God how it stung!

"Neither Lord Grantham nor I are in the first flush of youth, Mr Murray. I doubt either of us will produce a son anytime soon."

In a quieter, more respectful voice, Murray said "Were you aware that Lord and Lady Grantham were expecting a son in the summer of 1914?"

"There were rumours, but I paid them no heed."

"She miscarried of the child. Lord Grantham is not hopeful that Lady Grantham would be able to carry a son to term at her age. But you are single, Sir Anthony. You are able to choose a younger wife who will not be in the same danger."

"And if the one woman I would like to choose is…'otherwise involved'?" Murray regarded Anthony silently.

"I do understand. For generations, men of my class have had to subjugate their own desires to the requirements of their position. I won't be the first and I don't suppose I'll be the last. But I hope you will appreciate that this entire revelation has been quite unexpected, Mr Murray. I will need some time to consider the best course of action for the continuation of the title, the estate, the Crawley family, and for me."

"Of course, Sir Anthony, of course." Murray backed down, having made his point. "Please feel free to discuss any aspect of the entailment with me at any time."

"Thank you, Mr Murray."

"It is my pleasure, Sir Anthony."

* * *

_._

So that was why he had been summoned back to England: to _procreate_! _This is how so many women must feel_, he thought: _ignored for who I am, and only considered worth any thought at all when I am required to be breeding stock_.

The part of Anthony Strallan that had wandered around Europe for nearly a year, self-exiled from England and bearing his sorrow with him wherever he went, wanted to rebel. _Let the blasted title die. Let Robert know what it feels like to have the world against you. Let him know how it feels to lose the one thing that is truly precious to you_.

But after about an hour of those thoughts swirling around his head as he sat on the train speeding north, the other part of Sir Anthony Strallan took hold; the part of him that stood to attention in front of his father as he was told for the umpteenth time about the importance of duty and the responsibilities of his position and rank; the part of him that, with all the other boys at school, was lectured by the Headmaster on their obligations to their Queen, to their country, and to the Empire; the part of him that volunteered to serve in 1914 in a war that took not only the use of his arm, but his confidence, peace of mind, and self-worth as well as any hope of marrying the woman of his dreams.

That was the part of him that had told Murray that he understood his duty, and what was expected of him. It wouldn't be easy: duty never was. He would have to find some girl and…

How could he? How could he just marry some poor girl, just like that? He had given Edith up so she could be free to live her life more spectacularly than she would have been able to tied to him, with him dragging her down all the time, when she was meant for flying to the stars. Yes, he had loved Edith...loved Edith still with all his strength. But he couldn't in all conscience tie any other unsuspecting girl to him either, just for her to suffer the same fate. No; if he had to choose a bride it would be someone who had no prospects of any other marriage at all, whose life he would not be ruining, or someone for whom being the Countess of Grantham meant something very special. In fact it had to be someone for whom being the Countess of Grantham, and the mother of the future Earl, meant the whole world.

* * *

_._

_*A/N: For hundreds of years this was the case: if you inherited a title you _couldn't_ refuse it. You could ignore it, but if you were the Earl of Grantham, you couldn't say you weren't or take any action that made you not the Earl of Grantham. This all changed only because of Anthony Wedgwood Benn, 2nd Viscount Stansgate, known better today as Tony Benn. He took pains to renounce his title when he inherited it because it meant that he could not sit in the House of Commons any more. After a three-year campaign he was victorious and the Peerage Act 1963 reformed the system, allowing peers to renounce their titles. The Act became law shortly after 6 pm on 31 July 1963. Benn was the first peer to renounce his title, at 6.22 pm that same day._


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thank you so much for all your support, and suggestions, for this story. Thank you even for the threats and disapprovals, because I know I am really entertaining you if you care so much to complain. But fear not, unlike Baron Fellowes, I will take your wishes into consideration!_**

* * *

_._

Locksley had been well looked after by Oakley and his wife, the butler and housekeeper, in Anthony's absence, although most of it had been shut up in dustsheets. Walters, Anthony's agent, lived in a cottage on the estate, but the Oakleys lived in the house. By the time Anthony returned there, a fortnight after he had first received Murray's letter in Italy and sent word that he was coming home, Locksley had been dusted, aired, and was pristine again, awaiting its master. This was just as well, as Robert Crawley called on Anthony unannounced two days after he had taken up residence once more. A more awkward and strangulated meeting could not be envisaged.

After the initial shock, followed by strained pleasantries which were anything but, Anthony enquired what he could do for Robert.

"This entail business…of course it was a shock for us…you too I imagine. And you realise that you will succeed to the title only if I die before Mary or Edith produce any sons of their own: thankfully that is the most probable outcome of this…this…"

"…mess?" offered Anthony without a hint of irony.

"…yes…Still, one must prepare for all eventualities. Therefore it would seem sensible if you were to come round to Downton sometime and Tom and I can show you how we do things" Robert concluded.

"That is very generous of you, Lord Grantham, but I feel it would it be a terrible imposition on Lady Edith if I visited Downton" said Anthony with averted eyes.

"Yes, well, I think she's over that now. You do know, don't you, that she's being courted by this Michael Gregson who edits _The Sketch_. We expect an announcement very soon."

"I am very glad for her" was all Anthony could manage to mumble.

"So shall we expect you, say, ten o'clock on Wednesday? If it takes longer than a couple of hours you can stay for luncheon."

"That is very kind. I look forward to it."

* * *

_._

Robert was of a mind to be gracious. It seemed to be the best course of action anyway, but especially after he had set eyes on Strallan again. He'd lost weight, his eyes were more hooded and his shoulders more bowed than ever and he seemed tired. Robert thought people went abroad for their health. It didn't seem to have done Anthony any good at all. And the man was still harping on about Edith. Well, that was his business, and at least Robert didn't have to worry about Edith getting involved with him again. She had Michael now.

* * *

_._

Anthony meanwhile was feeling more and more uncomfortable with the whole situation. He felt trapped, just like an animal in one of those hellish metal traps that Anthony refused to have on his land.

He'd managed to run Locksley on his own well enough up until the last year and a bit. Running something as large as Downton was a very different matter. Also, he'd heard from his own tenants over the years how Downton tenancies tended to be _involved_ than those on the Locksley estate; more emotional somehow. Anthony's own theory was that the character of the landowner affected the quality of the working relationships on an estate. Anthony and his father before him were men of a quiet character, fair and careful. Whereas Robert…but it was the least Anthony could do to go over and let Robert and Tom take him through the arrangements as they stood at present. Robert had held out a hand. Anthony wasn't going to refuse to take it.

But meeting Edith filled him with terror, and soon it would be a reality, rather than a remote possibility. In his mind's eye, Anthony's over-active imagination put horrible words of retribution into Edith's mouth. He hoped he knew Edith well enough to understand that she was too kind and forgiving to do that to him. It didn't take away from the fact that that was what he thought he deserved.

* * *

_._

At ten o'clock precisely on Wednesday, Anthony's Rolls drew up in front of Downton Abbey. The footman opened the car door for Anthony and when he got out he was met with frosty polish by Carson. The butler was even more aloof than Anthony remembered him. Anthony sighed and resigned himself to more of the same from everyone here. So it was with surprise and delight that he was met by Cora in the hall. She took his good hand in both of hers and held it.

"Sir Anthony!" Her American pronunciation of his name emphasised the 'th' sound; it soothed him although he usually found it annoying.

"Lady Grantham." He bowed his head in gallant gratitude for her welcome.

"We live in interesting times!" she said with a sad smile.

"Indeed. I was so sorry to hear about Lady Sybil and Mr. Matthew, and now little Robert. Are you bearing up?"

"I'm doing my best." She looked him in the eyes with concern, but said no more.

"If I can be of any assistance, any assistance at all, I do hope you know you need only ask." He paused. "I trust Lady Edith will not have to endure meeting me" he almost whispered at her.

"She has told me that she will be down for luncheon. I'm sure she'll be fine, but thank you for asking. Now, I must convey you to the library and my husband and Tom, before they say that I am monopolising you and wasting their time!"

* * *

_._

The morning was less stressful than Anthony feared. Downton had been in a bit of a mess up until last year when Matthew invested a substantial sum in the estate and insisted on modernising some of the crop rotations, overhauled the tenancy agreements, instituted some mechanisation, and a few other necessities that had been ignored for far too long. Now Downton was starting to approach nearer to the efficiency and effectiveness that Anthony demanded of Locksley. There were still improvements to be made in the accounting practices but that was easily put in place and Anthony was an expert. Before any of them had noticed the time, Carson entered the library to announce that luncheon was served.

Anthony knew he would feel dreadful. He knew that he wouldn't know what to say and had avoided preparing something because it would both feel and sound false. When he walked into the dining room with Robert and Tom, and his eyes met hers, Edith's, his dearest darling's, for the first time in eighteen months, his body felt like it to belonged to someone else. He bowed his head to her, even more formally than he had to her mother, and waited for her to speak first.

Edith's entire week – since Robert had told her Anthony would be coming to Downton – had been dominated by the thought of this moment. Now it was here, she didn't know what to do or say. He looked so very pale, just as he had done in the church. He also looked thinner and more haunted, but worst of all he looked terrified of her. She realised she was staring at him and turned her head out of embarrassment. Anthony saw this, and interpreted it as a dismissal, an expression of disgust. _Just what I deserve_. The family sat. Cora had placed Anthony between herself and Mary so that Edith and he wouldn't have to sit together. Conversation was halting, but between Robert, Cora, and Tom the six of them managed to get through the brief meal without too many awkward silences. At one point Mary had surprised Anthony. She leant over to him and said quietly "I remember when we first met. We were sat together here like this at dinner and you were trying to tell me about the importance of mechanisation to the estate. Little did I know that Matthew would have to carry out that mechanisation five years later, and that you and Tom would be his successors in that reform. I admit you were ahead of your time Sir Anthony."

"That is very kind of you to remember, Lady Mary. But I certainly wasn't the only one concerned at that time. And of course the war put everything back a few years for so many estates."

"Not every estate has had our misfortunes though."

"I haven't had a chance to say how sorry I am for your loss. I know what it is to lose a spouse and a child. You find yourself wondering why you were not taken too, don't you? You want to know why you were left behind, when there is nothing here for you. You wonder how everyone else gets on with life, when in reality it has ended." He had a faraway look on his face as he spoke and wasn't looking at Mary, but Mary was staring at him.

"That is it…utterly…that is how I feel. No one else has had any idea."

"I daresay your mother does know. She too has lost a child, although losing an adult child isn't the same."

"But still…" Her words were left hanging between them, as luncheon ended and everyone rose. Anthony made his excuses, said his thanks and his goodbyes, and left.

_._


	5. Chapter 5

Edith's heart leapt when she realised that it was Sir Anthony's Rolls pulling up outside of Downton again the next morning. All the family were in the library, finishing their coffee before beginning on their separate days as Anthony was shown in by Carson, unrelenting in his disapproval that this cursed baronet had to be admitted into the lives of his family once more.

"Good morning, Strallan, what is it? Something you forgot to bring up yesterday?" asked Robert.

"No, no, nothing to do with the estate" Anthony replied still feeling the fear of Edith's hatred, while trying to ignore it and do his duty. He looked around at the Crawleys, noticing that Mary was not present, and stole a glance at Edith, nervous of her reaction to what he was about to ask.

"I was hoping…"

Edith cut him off, stupidly blurting out her hopes so awkwardly that she couldn't really believe what she'd said.

"A drive with you, Sir Anthony?" She hadn't meant it to be expressed in a tone that was so antagonistic, but her nerves affected her voice and it came out just as accusatory as Anthony had expected it to.

"Forgive me, Lady Edith…" Anthony murmured softly…_oh please forgive me, forgive me for everything_…

"Forgive me…you need not concern yourself that I shall bother you. I was hoping I might pay a visit to Lady Mary. She and I have something in common that others find difficult to understand: having to find ways of coping with life after losing a spouse and a child. We talked of it briefly yesterday, and I would like to offer any assistance I am able to provide. But if I am interrupting anything…"

Edith looked blankly at Anthony in shock. _Mary?!_

Cora stood up and came to the poor man's rescue; he looked wretched.

"That is most thoughtful of you, Sir Anthony. Lady Mary hasn't come down yet today. But I'll slip upstairs and see if she would like to receive you. Would you like to accompany me?"

Cora thought it best that Anthony walk up with her rather than suffer the pointed silence of the others, and especially Edith, there in the library. She chatted gently as they ascended the stairs to Mary's dayroom.

"Mary has been hit very hard by losing Matthew and little Robert so quickly one after the other. I do hope she can confide in you, Sir Anthony, because she doesn't, or can't, talk to anyone else it seems. She's even been arguing with Carson, and as you know she regards him as her second father."

"I hope I can help, Lady Grantham."

Cora stopped outside of a door on the first floor.

"Would you wait here please?" she said with a friendly smile, and entered closing the door behind her.

Anthony had never been left alone in Downton before. It wasn't a particularly beautiful building; it was far too Victorian Gothic for his taste. He much preferred the warmth exuded by Georgian Locksley. The inside of Downton had the odour of sadness and shadows. He remembered how Edith used to speak of her lonely, dispiriting childhood here.

Cora opened the door again and beckoned him in. Lady Mary was standing politely by the window seat where she had been sitting all morning.

"Good morning, Sir Anthony. Thank you for stopping by" she said without smiling, but not without gratitude. Cora left pressing Anthony's arm encouragingly as she did so.

"Good morning, Lady Mary. I hope I find you feeling a little stronger today. If not, I'll…" he began hesitantly, offering her a convenient way out if she wanted it.

"No, I'm feeling as composed as I ever do these days, thank you. And I would welcome the chance to ask you about your experience…" She paused and indicated the other end of the window seat, which he took.

"For instance I find that I can't weep. I did when Matthew…but not since. I would like to, I think it would help, but instead I just feel…annoyed, angry even. Did you find that?"

Anthony looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"Yes I did. I came to the conclusion that it is a reaction to the feelings of helplessness. I'm not an expert but I believe what you are feeling is quite natural. I hated the fact that I'd done everything I could…I'd got a nurse in to care for Maud in the last few months of her confinement, and Clarkson was in attendance at the birth…and it made not the slightest bit of difference. They both still died. I felt guilty believing that there must have been something else I could have done that would have saved them. I hated myself and was angry at myself for not knowing, or not finding out about, that something that might have changed things. Perhaps all of this is different for each person who has to go through it according to their circumstances."

"And whether they are male or female as well perhaps?" she replied.

They sat companionably, talking of their grief and sharing silences that were remarkable in their supportiveness considering their history.

"Lady Mary, there was another matter I wished to discuss with you. Your father has made it clear to me that he would prefer it if the next earl was a son of yours, or Lady Edith's, as indeed would I. But he has encouraged me to marry and endeavour to have a son as well."

"Poor Papa! I think losing three heirs in less than eight years has rattled him" replied Mary. "Now he feels the need to have lots of fallback strategies in place."

"To be sure. I know that losing your husband and son, dreadful as that has been in itself, has also meant that you have lost your accepted purpose in life…to be the future Countess of Grantham and mother of an earl."

"It makes me sound shallow, but, yes, that is also true."

"There is no need to judge yourself so harshly. It isn't shallow to have a duty, to have expectations placed upon you, and to want to fulfil them to the best of your ability. Your purpose has been violently taken from you. I believe that is another reason for your emotional turbulence."

Anthony took several deep breaths and pushed onwards.

"I know that you and I have had our disagreements in the past but I feel we have arrived at a position where we can at least tolerate each other. So let me make this offer: if it would help you to feel a sense of purpose once more, and if you do not wish to look for a love-match in the near future…I know you loved Matthew deeply and no one will be able to take his place…it would give me a sense of contentment in doing my duty if you would accept my hand in marriage."

Mary registered several emotions in quick succession: surprise, shock even, and then concern.

"What about Edith? You still love her, don't you…I saw that yesterday."

"I will not lie to you. I will love Edith until my dying breath. But I released her so she could live her life fully with a younger, less tortured, better man than me. She has Michael now. I don't think I should approach her, especially as she hates me so."

"Why don't you ask her first and if she refuses you come back to me? She may surprise you" Mary urged, sure that Edith did not hate Anthony at all. Quite the contrary.

"Because I find I am a coward and I couldn't bear to hear her express her contempt of me." The words had come out more passionately than he intended. He collected himself.

"The marriage I am offering you, I need not point out, will be one of convenience. It will have only one purpose: to produce an heir. I hope I am being plain and honest with you about that. If the offer disgusts you, and why would it not...I am nearly fifty years of age and crippled...I will not hold it against you. But I felt it was only fair that I offer myself to you before any other young lady. If you refuse me, I will try to find someone else to take me on to carry out your father's wishes. In the end, Lady Mary, I brought shame on Lady Edith and her family by jilting her. If this new situation means that I have a chance to make amends, to serve the House of Grantham, then I shall do my duty."

Mary regarded him silently for a moment. Then she stood and walked over to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead…trying out whether this possibility of an alliance between them might work.

"Sir Anthony, I thank you for your proposal, and I accept."

* * *

_**Please don't hate me! There's lots more in the story yet! **_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thank you so much to everyone who is following this, to everyone who has reviewed. I've tried to take your reservations into account where possible. It is great to have you around enjoying this!**_

* * *

_._

Anthony insisted that Mary thought about her decision for at least another two days before they made an announcement to her family. In spite of herself, Mary was touched by Anthony's consideration of her feelings. He didn't want her to embarrass herself by making a rash decision in her heightened emotional state that she might soon regret. This was in addition to his brutal honesty that he did not love her, that he still loved Edith but did not think there was any possibility of a reconciliation with her. His openness had won her over completely.

His proposal had a galvanising effect on her, as he had hoped it would. She quickly began taking an interest in the running of the house again, assisting Cora with arrangements as she always used to. She didn't keep to her own rooms all day, and apologised to Carson who forgave her instantly.

This, and how much better she felt having a place again, convinced her that her decision had been the right one. So she and Anthony agreed to announce their engagement at dinner two days after his proposal.

Edith sat down at the dinner table between Tom and her grandmother. Anthony was again placed between Mary and Cora; he was directly opposite her. Things with Michael had been strained since Matthew's death. She hadn't written very much in that time, and hadn't submitted anything for publication. Michael was, by turns, despairing and then angry at her for neglecting him and focussing on her family instead. She had received a telephone call from him that afternoon full of hurt words and pointed remarks. It had ended in confusion, for the line was bad, but Edith thought he had said he would call her again in a few days. Edith had dreaded the moment when her family discovered the truth about Michael ever since she had introduced him to them at Shrimpie Flintshire's. Every time her father said something approving of Michael, or Cora made not so subtle enquiries about future plans, Edith shrivelled up inside a little more.

Then Anthony had been brought back into all their lives and it was as if the creeping death of shame that was her life with Michael had been suddenly brought into stark comparison by the appearance of the glorious, living sun.

After the jilting, without really knowing it, Edith had pushed all her feelings for Anthony into a box somewhere deep inside her where they couldn't hurt her any more, locked it, and thrown away the key. When she saw him again, that box was blown open and her love for him smothered her. But since he had returned, he had spoken to everyone in this family, Mama, Papa, Tom, and Mary, but not to her. She hoped he was just being Anthony…her wonderful, honourable, considerate Anthony…and letting her get used to his presence once again before approaching her and beginning to repair their relationship. She had tried to break with Michael on the telephone aiming to be free again when Anthony did speak to her, which she hoped he would do soon. Now here they all were at dinner. She caught Anthony's eye and smiled at him. He didn't quite smile back. In fact he looked as though he was suffering. Somehow he often looked like that when he was around her. Perhaps she wasn't as good for him as he was for her. She was becoming more and more desperate to talk to him about the future…perhaps they could try again now that her family had to be less disapproving of him. Perhaps she could get him by himself after dinner…

Anthony tapped his wine glass requesting silence.

"Lady Mary and I have an announcement to make. If…_if_…I am to inherit the title of Earl of Grantham, then I felt it only fair that I should offer the title of Countess to a Crawley. Lady Edith is now not free, but I am pleased to say that Lady Mary has accepted and we are engaged to be married."

There was a stunned silence. Cora was the first to break the spell, followed quickly by Robert and Tom all congratulating Anthony and offering their best wishes to Mary.

Edith sat quite openly staring at Anthony. The man she loved was going to marry her sister…the same sister who called him 'poor, old Strallan'…the same sister who prevented him proposing to her at the Garden Party before the war…no, no, this just wasn't possible.

Violet looked vaguely horrified.

"I hope you aren't going to bolt again Strallan" she said haughtily.

"Not this time, Lady Grantham" he replied quite seriously. He risked looking at Edith.

She was weeping, quite plainly without trying to hide it. He opened his mouth but no words came. He'd hurt her again, the last thing he ever wished to do. He'd felt so sure that the only feelings she had had for him were of bitterness and blame. Yet the pain she was suffering was obvious. She was weeping, and now so was he. They stared at each other until Robert took Anthony's hand to shake it.

"Thank you my dear chap. I knew I could rely on your sense of honour" he said warmly.

_My sense of honour…my blasted, ruinous sense of honour…oh god!_

When he turned to look back at Edith she had excused herself and left the room.

* * *

_._

The next day Mary and Cora were huddled up in the drawing room making plans. Anthony didn't want a big wedding and that suited Mary as well.

"Mama, you must understand that Anthony and I have merely come to an agreement for the sake of the family and nothing more. We don't want a big do. I loved having a big wedding with Matthew…because he was the love of my life." She broke down into tears for the first time in weeks. Despite the violence of her sobs, it was so much healthier for her to cry than to bottle it all up. Cora put her arms around her daughter and silently thanked Anthony Strallan.

* * *

_._

Meanwhile, Edith was letting her feelings about Michael Gregson get the better of her. Yes, his attentions had been welcome when she didn't feel loved or lovable, when she believed she would never see Anthony ever again. But the comfort was short lived, and the shame increasingly oppressive and all-encompassing. Now, because she had been involved with Michael she may have lost Anthony again, for a third time. She was miserable, and she was angry. She put through a call to his office only to be told that Mr Gregson was out of town for a few days. She walked through to the drawing room where Mary and Cora were once again thinking about plans.

"Is Anthony going to be coming round today?"

Cora looked at Mary, and Mary held Edith's gaze.

"He'll be round for dinner." Mary deliberately didn't ask why Edith wanted to know. She thought Edith would say something in her own good time if she wanted to.

"I'd like to have a word with him sometime. I thought it might be a good idea if he and I cleared the air a little, tidied up the past, you know, if we're to be brother and sister."

"That's very generous of you, Edith, and brave too, I realise. Thank you. I'm sure Anthony would like that. He doesn't like…"

"…grudges and bad blood, no, I know. I do know him quite well, you know."

"Better than me. Probably better than I ever will. I'll tell him. Thank you, Edith."

Edith shrugged awkwardly and left. At least she had the chance now of speaking to Anthony alone. She had held back the tears until she got to the entrance hall heading for the stairs to go to her room where she could cry in peace, when she collided with a man Carson was just showing into the parlour.

"Edith! Oh, thank god! I had to see you."

It was Michael Gregson.

* * *

_._

"No, Michael, for the last time, I will not be your mistress, and there's an end of it."

"What…what do you want from our affair then? I can't stand being with you but not being your lover. We can't marry, and I don't believe you want to break with me completely" he hissed, wanting to shout but not daring to in case someone overheard.

"I _do_ want to break with you completely. Things have changed here so much. My life should've changed with the new circumstances, but because of you they have not."

"I don't understand. I know Matthew and his baby were your family, but it isn't as if they were _your_ husband and son."

"It's not just that. There's a new heir. And he's engaged to Mary. And…"

Michael didn't seem to be listening any more.

"You will regret breaking with me. We may not have been lovers, but the press reports have hinted that we were. I could make the publicity very uncomfortable for you and your family. I don't say I will, but I could." His voice had an edge, put there by his despair. He loved Edith and couldn't bear to lose her. He would use any weapons he had to hand to prevent her leaving him.

"Mary was blackmailed into almost marrying a newspaper man she didn't love in exactly the same way. But Michael, be assured that all your threats lost their power to hurt me when Anthony proposed to Mary."

"Anthony Strallan? The man who jilted you? He's the new heir? And he's going to marry your sister instead of you? Oh that's precious!"

Over Michael's deriding laughter, Edith shouted through her tears "How dare you! How dare you! It's too late to throw you out of Downton now, but I want you gone first thing in the morning and I never want to hear from you again."

* * *

_.  
_

**_There will be more high drama before the tide turns and Our Lovely Couple have some good luck. I know, I'm an angst queen...sorry!_**

**_Someone asked about the story I mentioned at the end of _Where Angels Dwell_. The story is called_ After the Ball is Over _and is the next one in line after this one is completed. It is about Anthony and Edith's first meeting in an alternative 1913. I have been having trouble with it, so I published this one first!_  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner that evening was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts…

Tom

How did I end up here? Sat at the table of an English earl as if they were my own family. I suppose they are my family now. They are certainly Sybbie's family. I suppose I should be grateful that they accepted me at all after Sybil died. They could have had Sybbie taken from me and brought her up here without me or any involvement from me. Robert has the power to do that, but I don't think he has the will to carry it through. I think he feels torn in all directions, whereas Violet…I wouldn't put anything past that ancient tigress! Especially where her family are concerned.

Violet

Is there no way I can get rid of Strallan? The man seems incapable of knowing when he isn't wanted. He just follows my granddaughters around like a lost puppy. Look at how uncomfortable Edith is and I'm sure it is because he's here. We just cannot allow him to become the Earl of Grantham. Mary must be made to break off with him, or he must be convinced to run away _again_…that, at least, shouldn't be too difficult. Then we must find a suitable match for Mary as soon as she feels up to it. Edith and this plain, dull Mr Gregson must be told to get married and produce a son as quickly as possible, that is if we can't find someone with at least a bit of character for her instead. Oh, Edith, you do have dreadful taste in men. It must come from your mother's side. What my poor husband would've said about all this I can't imagine!

Robert

I see Isobel still won't come to dinner. It would do her good to make an effort. Perhaps we should send Anthony round to see her. If he can bring Mary round he could certainly help Isobel. It would appear that I underestimated him when he was courting Edith. Well, all's well that end's well, I suppose. He certainly knows his stuff regarding estate management. Perhaps he would make a good earl if it comes to that after all. But I think I'm a bit fitter than him…yes, I think I'll outlast him yet.

Cora

It seems that we have weathered another storm. This is what Crawleys do…and have always done: we _survive_. I'm so proud of my babies. Mary is showing her true strength and looking to the future. Edith has forgiven Anthony for jilting her and has moved on. She's even found a career. There's American might in their veins. They are Crawleys, my girls, but they are Levinsons as well!

Michael

Edith! So beautiful, so sexy, so independent of mind but so in need of being looked after. She's confused and doesn't really know what she needs. Well, what she needs is someone capable: a man of the world, not some fey nobleman like Strallan. She needs a real man, like me. Even if he weren't old and maimed he wouldn't be man enough for my Edith. She is mine. She never loved anyone but me. I can't let her go. I won't let her go. She will always be at my side, she will be my lover, and everything will be well. For the next few nights we will be sleeping under the same roof and, I'll wager, under the same covers.

Mary

There's something going on between Edith and Michael. I never did like him. I don't _dislike_ him but there's something wrong there. I can feel it. Edith is very unhappy. I think she still loves Anthony and wishes he had proposed to her and not to me. In some ways I would have preferred that too. I can't imagine what the physical side to marriage will be like without Matthew. But Edith has to make up her mind about Michael before we can settle that. I'll talk to Anthony about it.

Edith

Anthony, my dearest, darling Anthony. I hope you are very happy and that Mary appreciates you. I am now not good enough for you, even if I manage to get away from Michael without ruining the family reputation…_yet again_. An ex-newspaper-editor's mistress in all but the actual deed is not a good match for a future earl. But I still love you, so very, very much. And this time I've lost you forever.

Anthony

Oh Edith! You are so very lovely. You never used to believe me when I told you that you were beautiful. Do you believe it when Gregson tells you? Does Gregson tell you? Does he kiss you? I never did; I never had the courage to break that taboo. God, how I wish I had! Why in heaven's name doesn't the man propose to you and make you happy? I can see that you're miserable tonight. Is it him? Or is it me? It's probably because Mary's going to marry the man who humiliated you, and you dread always having him around as a reminder. _Oh god!_ How am I going to cope when I am married to Mary but am so desperately in love with her sister? Whatever I do, this time I must not let it fester until I'm standing in front of an altar! I must talk to Mary.

* * *

_._

Over the brandy, while the women were in the drawing room, all but Edith talking non-stop weddings, Robert looked around at his male companions: Anthony, Tom, and Michael. There was a feeling of contentment in his chest. His son-in-law and sons-in-law-to-be were none of them what he would have chosen only a few short years ago. But the world had changed, and, considering everything, Robert felt that these three were a pretty good bunch. He didn't notice that Anthony's questioning of Michael about his intentions towards Edith was perhaps a little more detailed than might be expected of casual dinner chat. He certainly didn't realise that Michael's responses were guarded to the point of evasion. He missed the concerned look that Anthony shared with Tom. Robert wasn't the most observant of men.

* * *

_._

Anthony took his leave of the company at the end of the evening. Carson was about to help him with his coat when Edith approached.

"I'll do that, thank you, Carson. Would you call for Sir Anthony's car and driver, please?"

Carson looked down his nose at Sir Anthony: quite a feat as Carson was a head shorter than him.

"Very good, my lady."

Anthony watched Edith as she expertly eased his right arm into his overcoat then buttoned it and laid his hurt hand in the sling. He adjusted it around his neck with his good one.

"Thank you, Edith."

"You're welcome…my sweet one." She looked up into his eyes.

"Edith…" Anthony breathed.

Suddenly Michael was there, obsequious in his words and manner, but holding Edith's elbow so hard it hurt. She winced.

"Goodnight, Sir Anthony. Will we see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. There are more arrangements to be discussed. You know, I don't remember there being this amount of planning for my first wedding! But, of course, that was a long time ago, and then I wasn't marrying a Crawley. You did all the arrangements for ours, Edith dear. I was in awe of you managing all that by yourself and in such a short space of time. I'm so sorry I spoiled it." His eyes were fixed on Edith's, and she returned his gaze, both of them ignoring Michael.

"Lucky for me that you did!" Michael blurted.

"Yes, you are indeed a very lucky man, Mr Gregson." Anthony's car arrived and he made his farewells. Michael turned Edith to face him.

"Which one is your room?"

"As if I would tell you that Michael" she said in a hushed, angry retort.

"You will have to let me visit you…you just have to let me be with you tonight. I might make too much noise trying to find you otherwise. _People might hear._" His voice was oiled with lust-laden threats.

"By all means, make as much noise as you like, but remember that my father is the best shot in Yorkshire." With that smug observation she went up to bed, making sure that she didn't go immediately to her room in case he was watching her. Nevertheless, she made sure that she locked her bedroom door every night Michael stayed at Downton.

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_**More very soon! In the next chapter things begin to look up for Our Lovely Couple. Thank you again for all your reviews, follows, and favourites!  
**_


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days went by in a flurry of decisions and arrangements. The wedding, it was decided, would take place in eight months, a few weeks after the first anniversary of Matthew's and baby Robert's deaths.

As Mary became more and more certain that this was what she wanted, Anthony became more and more haunted by Edith's glances. What he had thought were glares of hatred and accusation and protectiveness of her sister were becoming…or perhaps he was only now interpreting them correctly as…looks of regret, affection, and…although he couldn't truly believe it…love.

Had he really made another terrible mistake? In thinking that Edith was now happy with Gregson, and that she only wished that Anthony were out of the way, had his lack of self-confidence hamstrung him once more?

Mary had mentioned that Edith wanted to talk to him 'to make peace with the past' she had said. But each time Anthony had tried to get Edith on her own, Gregson would intrude somehow. Anthony kept trying but was only successful when Gregson had to return to his London office, which he eventually did after three days.

Dinner that evening was a quiet one and afterwards the family all went to the drawing room for coffee. Anthony raised some question of literature and disagreed with Edith's answer (which he knew to be correct) just so he could suggest she and he went to look it up to settle the matter. They left the others chatting and walked over to the darkened library. Anthony shut the door after them, saying "Don't bother looking it out. I know you are right."

"Of course you do! I've never known you get a Shakespeare quotation wrong! I knew it had to be something else" exclaimed Edith.

"Mary said that you wanted to speak to me alone, but I'm afraid I haven't been allowed to speak to you by ourselves in the last few days."

"I'm sorry…it's been difficult with Michael around, hasn't it? He is of a jealous nature."

"Yes…quite…well…anyway, Mary mentioned you had said something about making peace with the past…which I so hope we can do. I can't bear to think that you still might feel hurt by my actions. I can't tell you how sorry I am…how much I still regret jilting you. I still believe you didn't deserve to be wasted on me: neither does Mary but our situation is different. But please believe I will forever regret giving you your freedom in that way."

He looked at her without hiding his feelings for the first time since returning to Downton. She lost herself in his eyes, knowing that she shouldn't be doing this. Anthony had become someone else's, now he was unattainable and she couldn't express her feelings to him, and it had made her realise just how attracted she was to him. His quirky smile, his sapphire eyes, his imposing height, his broad shoulders, even his wretched sling which lent him a rakish air and reminded her of his heroism, all of this just hit her in the stomach each time she looked at him and thought _he could have been mine_.

"I…I just…it's" she began but failed to find the right words. He stood looking at her politely, patiently, fighting the desire to embrace her and comfort her. She sighed.

"I wanted to say that I understood why you asked Mary to be your Countess, to be…your wife…rather than me. I'm not really appropriate any more…"

Anthony took a step closer to her.

"Oh Edith! Why ever would you think that?! You would make a fabulous Countess, and the most wonderful wife any man could hope for. I pray Mr Gregson deserves you, for he is a very, _very_ lucky man. I may be the best qualified person in the world to say that!" He smiled sadly at his bitter-sweet observation. "You do know, don't you, that I would have asked you, I _wanted_ to ask you, but I couldn't just barge into your relationship with another man like a cad."

"I wish you had, Anthony! Michael…he…" Everything caught up with her all of a sudden and she sat down and burst into tears.

Anthony's concern for her won over his civility and he stepped over to her and put his good arm around her shoulders. Edith wasn't sure what happened when Anthony came near her. It was like her whole body was a compass and he was a lodestone. She pointed towards where he was at all times, and when he was within six feet of her all her senses went haywire, losing control completely. Now he was holding her again for the first time in over eighteen months and it felt so wonderfully right. Her crying eased and Anthony took the opportunity to ask the question he had to ask.

"What's troubling you so, dearest? Please tell me, even if I am the cause, which I expect I am. At least let me do something about it."

"It's…it's Michael" she sobbed.

"Has he not proposed yet?" Anthony tried and failed to keep the disdain and grief out of his voice.

"Of course he hasn't proposed, Anthony. He's…he's married!" Edith wept.

All the colour drained from Anthony's face. _I'm too naïve and trusting for my own good sometimes. I never would have thought anyone would do that to my sweet Edith._

"Oh Edith! I am so sorry. He hasn't…he's not…has he forced himself on you?"

"No, no he hasn't, and I'm not his mistress, and I don't want to be. But he's been manipulating the press reports to make it sound as if I am. This afternoon I tried to break with him. He said he would make the reports even more lurid if I did, and that he would withdraw the copy only if I not only remained his…companion but also _did_ become his mistress."

"He's blackmailing you, in other words" Anthony stated baldly.

"Anthony, please don't tell Papa, or any of my family. I know they think that I've brought shame on them before and I don't think they could forgive me if I did it again. I couldn't bear that. Besides I fear Papa might do something desperate."

When she looked at him, there was a darkness on Anthony's face that she had never seen before. He looked dangerous and his voice was quiet and menacing.

"It isn't Lord Grantham's bullets that Gregson has to fear, but mine. If he ever makes good on his threats, if he ever hurts you in body or spirit, I swear I will shoot him down like a dog."

"Anthony!"

"I mean it!"

Suddenly she felt so cherished, so championed, so defended, and so _safe_, just as he had made her feel all that time ago. It was so potently comforting and thrilling. She smiled and laid her head back on his midriff so he could hug her again. She never wanted this embrace to end.

"I promise I won't tell your family, but just give me the word and I will deal with Mr Gregson" he murmured gently.

"You won't do anything that might get you into trouble? Please?"

"If you say so, my darling girl. I will speak to my solicitor and we will send him a devastatingly polite but firm letter. I promise not to call him out, despite the temptation to shoot him full of holes."

She even managed a little giggle then, and looked up at him with such trust and adoration that he forgot himself. He leant down to her and…

"Oh there you are! We were wondering if you had had to go through all thirty-seven plays to settle your argument!" Mary trilled with a touch of ridicule since she had never really cared for Shakespeare. Although Anthony and Edith had stood and faced Mary the moment she entered the library, she saw on their faces what had almost happened. She said nothing about it, and didn't let her knowledge change the tone of her voice or the message that Granny was about to leave and they should come and bid her goodnight. But she did think about it a lot that night, and took Anthony to one side the next day.

"I take it you and Edith have forgiven one another for the failed wedding?"

"I believe so. There's bound to be a soreness there always, but she doesn't hold it against me." Anthony had been looking into the middle distance, but brought his eyes to settle on hers.

"I didn't kiss her last night…I wasn't kissing her when you came into the library, but I confess that I would have done if you hadn't arrived when you did. If you want to call off the wedding I will not blame you; it would be my fault. Your sister has a power over me that makes all my moral strength crumble into dust. I am sorry, Mary."

"No, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say that I know what you offered me was a marriage of convenience to produce an heir. What I want out of it is to be Countess and the mother of that heir, to have a defined role in Downton again. I really wouldn't mind if you took Edith as your mistress. And once I've given you a son, I hope you won't mind me taking lovers. This is how things have been arranged in families like ours for centuries. I don't see why things should be different now. So, go ahead, tell Edith how you feel. I don't mind."

Anthony was absolutely stunned. The possibility that he might simultaneously have a life of love with Edith and a life of duty with Mary flickered, very briefly, in front of his eyes. But he knew what his answer would be; and he knew what Edith would answer, and it was the same.

"Thank you, Mary. I want you to know that I really wouldn't mind you taking lovers, once we have a son. I do appreciate how generous and understanding your offer is, but I just don't think that's me. I can't be Edith's lover and your husband. My honour wouldn't permit me, tempting though it is. I don't think it would be fair to you if I wasn't faithful to you, no matter what you may do. I just wouldn't want to with Edith or any other woman. Also, I couldn't do that to Edith. She's always been very jealous of you, you know, of your beauty, your composure, your confidence, and of the effect you have on men. It would be torture for her to share me with you. No, the best thing would be for me to make sure Edith knows there can never be anything between her and me ever again."

* * *

_**Anthony has just made the most self-sacrificing offer of his life. This is the turning point; his nobility will be rewarded. **_

_**Thank you all again - reviews are beautiful flowers made of words and I love 'em!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'm really sorry if some of you think I've not done justice to Anthony. This wasn't my intention. As Tumblr followers know, I've been suffering from a really bad cold and many sleepless nights; perhaps my writing abilities have suffered as well. **_

_**But the direction this story has taken has certainly provoked discussion, if nothing else.**_

_**For what it's worth, here's my view: although Anthony is tempted by the thought of becoming Edith's lover because he loves her, he would never do it. He respects her too much. He wouldn't take any mistress because his sense of honour would not allow him to do that to any wife he had, even Mary. I expected people to complain about my treatment of Mary for offering this arrangement, but no one (so far) has. I also think Anthony loses his temper and threatens to shoot Gregson because Gregson has or might hurt Edith, not because Gregson wants to be Edith's lover, although I think there is some jealousy in there as well.**_

_**Anyway, see what you think of this!**_

* * *

_._

_"Thank you, Mary. I want you to know that I really wouldn't mind you taking lovers, once we have a son. I do appreciate how generous and understanding your offer is, but I just don't think that's me. I can't be Edith's lover and your husband. My honour wouldn't permit me, tempting though it is. I don't think it would be fair to you if I wasn't faithful to you, no matter what you may do. I just wouldn't want to with Edith or any other woman. Also, I couldn't do that to Edith. She's always been very jealous of you, you know, of your beauty, your composure, your confidence, and of the effect you have on men. It would be torture for her to share me with you. No, the best thing would be for me to make sure Edith knows there can never be anything between her and me ever again."_

_._

Mary watched as Anthony's face almost crumpled with emotion, causing something in her to break. She had a fleeting vision of Matthew, her wonderful, sweet Matthew, with _his_ sense of honour that she had hardly ever understood. The man in front of her let his sense of duty torture him even more than that.

"No. No" she said.

Anthony looked up at her, his eyes glistening, confusion writ on his face.

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't want to put you or Edith through any more. You've both suffered enough. I know you would have asked Edith to marry you rather than me if it hadn't been for Mr Gregson. I apologise for making that absurd suggestion that she be your mistress. Thank you for being good and honourable and letting me realise what a fool I'd made of myself before it got out of hand. I don't really know why I said it. I think we both know a marriage between us would have been a failure before it had even begun. You were trying to please everyone…me, Papa, Granny…out of some belief that you owed us for jilting Edith. But you don't; you really don't. Anthony, I am calling off the wedding."

"Mary…oh Mary, thank you." Anthony put his good arm around her and hugged her, quite instinctively. "I am so, so grateful. You do know that I respect and admire you, but…you are right. We would have made a pretty awful couple, being forever annoyed with each other. I don't blame you for wanting to hold on to being the Countess though. It was always your purpose in life. You were only trying to find a way that we could all be happy and have what we wanted. So was I. But it won't work, will it? Don't fret though. I daresay your father will outlive me, and then you would've married this sad, old bore for nothing!" Mary hugged him back.

"Anthony, you are not a sad, old bore no matter what I thought of you before. And, please, go and talk to Edith. Get this thing with Mr Gregson sorted out. I'm sure she will choose you. Don't let her make another mistake."

"Between you and me, Mary, I believe it is more complicated than that. From what Edith has told me, it appears that Mr Gregson is a bit of an unsavoury character."

"He's a newspaper editor; of course he is unsavoury! You will remember I was engaged to Sir Richard Carlisle for a time. I'm sure I can trust you with this: he was blackmailing me to marry him with knowledge that, well, really doesn't matter now. When Matthew found out he struck Sir Richard and it turned into a brawl in the drawing room! It was all very dramatic! Sir Richard left and Matthew proposed soon after and the rest you know."

Anthony touched Mary's arm gently and looked at her pleadingly.

"Mary, please talk to Edith. Gregson is…" He remembered his promise and stopped himself. "…I promised Edith I wouldn't tell anyone in her family, but believe me, she needs to tell you what Gregson is up to…more than ever now you've told me about Sir Richard. I am sure you can help."

Mary, worried by what Anthony had just said, nodded.

"Yes, I will talk to her."

"Thank you, Mary, thank you again. You are a magnificent person."

"I doubt that, but sometimes I am capable of acting like one."

* * *

_._

Sir Anthony contacted his solicitor as he had promised Edith he would. A very strongly worded letter was sent to the Editor and owners of _The Sketch_. Anthony hoped that that would be the end of it, but feared that it might not be.

* * *

_._

Although Anthony had offered, Mary insisted on telling the family that the wedding had been called off, choosing to do so individually rather than _en masse_, knowing what Robert's and Violet's reactions were likely to be.

"He does have an uncanny tendency to turn tail and run" said Violet.

"Granny, _I'm_ the one calling it off. I just don't think we're compatible. It would be a disaster. The whole point of it would be missed – there would be no heir. So it is best if I call it off now. I am very grateful to Anthony for being so understanding and for pulling me out of my stupor. He's a good man, Granny. Perhaps he and Edith might…"

"No! I really do not think that would be the best course of action for anyone. Anyway, what about Mr Gregson?" huffed Robert.

"Yes, Papa, what about Mr Gregson? You don't think it's at all odd that he hasn't proposed yet?...that he avoids talking about their intentions? Do you want to speak to Edith about it or shall I?"

Robert's silence as he turned away from her was all the answer she needed.

* * *

_._

Mary found Edith in the library, an unheeded book in her hands, staring into space.

"Might I have a word?" she said quietly.

"Yes" Edith replied with a shrug expecting Mary to want to discuss some detail of the wedding.

Mary sat next to her sister.

"Anthony told me what almost happened between you the other night. He is so very honest, isn't he?" Mary took Edith's hand, much to Edith's surprise.

"We discussed how you and he still feel about each other. I really didn't mean to get between you, Edith. I was blinded by the wish to be the Countess-in-waiting once more, to have that position and be at the centre of Downton again. But it's not right. Edith, I've called off the wedding. It wouldn't be fair on anyone.

"Really?" Edith mouthed unable to believe her sister's sensitivity.

"Yes. If I've learned anything from Matthew's and little Robert's deaths, it is that life is short…too short to stand in the way of happiness. I think you and Anthony are meant for each other. If you were to get together again I'd be so very pleased for you both."

Not believing her ears, Edith just stared at Mary. Finally Mary said "Edith, did you hear what I said?"

Edith could only nod.

"And I am right, aren't I? You do still love Anthony? Or have I got it wrong? Perhaps you are serious about Mr Gregson?"

Edith could stand it no longer.

"Oh Mary! I do love Anthony so very, very much but…Michael…"

"Go on, Edith, let me in. I might surprise you and be both able and willing to help."

"He's…he's married, to a lady in an asylum who's lost her mind. When I first met him I was so sore from Anthony's jilting that I was desperate for any affection, I admit it. But I've never loved him and I'm not his mistress whatever the papers say."

"I thought as much" Mary assured her. "I was rather surprised, though, that Papa hadn't registered the intimations in _The Sketch_. But I suppose he only reads _The Times_. I assume he's putting pressure on you to become his mistress using threats of reporting your relationship with him in his paper? These newspapermen appear to have little or no imagination, and even less confidence in their abilities to win and keep a woman's affection without coercion. Sir Richard was the same. He used the Pamuk story" stated Mary matter-of-factly.

Edith looked down. "I am so very sorry about that Mary."

"I know dear. It doesn't matter any more. What do you intend to do about Mr Gregson?"

"Anthony has instructed his lawyer to send Michael and _The Sketch_'s owners a warning letter. But I think Michael's beyond thinking reasonably" Edith told her.

"If you and Anthony can come to an agreement before Mr Gregson does anything too rash, it won't matter anyway. We will have to tell Papa and Mama though." She saw Edith tense. "I'm sure Anthony will support you no matter what, as will I. We should do it soon if you think Mr Gregson may throw caution to the winds. Anthony's coming this evening; shall we talk to them before dinner?"

"Thank you Mary" Edith hugged her. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything, Edith dear. You always were a tongue-tied little thing!" Mary said with more affection than annoyance.


	10. Chapter 10

_**I tried to think of a more realistic way to end this, I really did. So let's just blame this ending on the cold/Whooping Cough/lurgy I've been suffering, shall we? Anyway, this is not kitchen-sink drama, is it? It's high romantic drama of the fluffiest kind. I hope you enjoy it.**_

* * *

_._

As usual Anthony arrived promptly in time for a sherry. Mary caught him on the way in and told him of her plan. When Robert, Cora, and Edith came down from dressing for dinner they found Mary and Anthony at the bottom of the main stairs waiting for them.

"Mama, Papa, we...that is, Edith, Anthony, and I...we need to talk to you…about Mr Gregson." They were all just going into the drawing room, Edith at the back, when a taxi pulled up outside. Before Carson could get to the door, Gregson burst in, looked around wildly, and when he saw Edith ran to her, grabbing her and pulling her into a ferocious embrace.

"Edith! My love, my own, my darling!"

"Michael! Let go! You're hurting me. What's happened? What's wrong?"

"They've sacked me, the owners of _The Sketch_. For being your lover! For telling the uncomfortable truth about this dreadful society we live in! They received a letter from that bastard Strallan and they've sacked me. Of course, they've had to print what they've done and why and other sheets have got hold of the story and are running it with all the particulars. Edith! We have nothing left to lose! Come away with me; live with me! We can be together always now!"

The family stood watching in horror, rooted to the spot. Robert and Cora were aghast. Edith, her mind racing, realised how Gregson's words must sound to her parents.

"Michael, no! I am not your mistress, and I don't want to be. Can't you understand that? Our friendship, what we had, is over. I don't want to see you again. Could I be any clearer?"

"I don't believe it. Someone here has been telling you lies." He looked around at Anthony with a mad hatred in his eyes.

"I don't love you, Michael. I never have, I never will" Edith cried.

"No! You love me! And we are going to be together forever, one way or another." With that he produced a knife from his pocket and held it against Edith's throat.

"If I can't have you in life, I will have you in death. We will die here together, then no one can ever part us ever again!"

"Gregson!" Anthony's voice was steady and commanding, although in reality he was terrified for Edith and shaking slightly.

"Gregson! Listen to me. You think someone has been poisoning Edith's mind against you? Well, you're right. It was me." While talking, he gradually, surreptitiously moved towards where Gregson was holding Edith.

"I told Edith that what you were doing was blackmail. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"No! I love her!" Gregson shouted.

"I don't think anyone who truly loved Edith would print the things about her that you have. You are despicable! But she loves me, and I love her." Anthony was close enough now to let his voice drop to a provocative purr. "I'll tell you something else. I've had her! And she's wonderful! You were never going to be good enough for her. But when I make love to her…she moans my name in her pleasure" Anthony lied, goading Gregson beyond endurance. He took the knife from Edith's throat and lunged at Anthony.

"You bastard!"

The moment she was released, Edith kneed Gregson in the groin. While he was still reeling from that, Carson rugby-tackled him to the floor. Jimmy and Alfred were instantly there to help overpower Gregson and to tie his hands together so he could do no more damage. Cora rushed to Edith.

"My darling! Are you alright?"

"I think so, Mama." Edith began to tremble as the delayed reaction kicked in. "If it hadn't been for Anthony…"

"Yes, thank you Anthony. Well done, Sir!" Robert started, but when he came to stand in front of Anthony he saw what Gregson had done. The right sleeve of Anthony's tailcoat and the sling above were sliced open and beneath them there was a large gash which was bleeding heavily. Anthony was pale, his eyes closing. Robert was only just in time to catch him as he fell.

* * *

_._

After the initial shock, Cora took control. She put a handkerchief on Anthony's arm and pressed hard, calling out instructions to the footmen and Carson. Edith removed her headband and secured it above the wound as a temporary tourniquet. Robert, Jimmy, and Alfred carried Anthony to the drawing room and laid him down on the chaise longue. Mrs Hughes arrived with a bowl of warm water, cloths and bandages and the women tended to Anthony's arm while the men stood around helplessly.

Once the bleeding had stopped, Cora touched Edith's arm and asked quietly "I presume none of what Mr Gregson said was true?"

"No, Mama. This is what we wanted to tell you before dinner. I thought Michael was...not exactly stable any more, but there really was nothing else that we could do to try to avoid a scandal except what Anthony did. I wanted to tell you that Michael was married, that he was blackmailing me to become his mistress, and that he seemed intent on befouling my name in his unhinged state. He thought if we were both disgraced and had nothing to lose, then I would live with him. Of course, I wouldn't have. He had kissed me, but no more, I promise."

"And Anthony?" Cora looked almost more worried at that question than the first.

"Of course not! How could you think such a thing! He was only saying those things to draw Michael's knife away from me and towards himself." Edith looked down at Anthony's prone form. "He was so brave, Mama, doing that for me."

Cora put her arm around her daughter.

"Yes, dearest, he was."

Anthony began to shift and come round. Instantly, Edith knelt by his side.

"Don't move too much, Anthony, dearest. You'll start the bleeding again."

"Edith…?" Anthony whispered.

"Yes, my love. I'm here." Edith struggled to keep her voice level and calm.

"Are you…alright?"

"Yes, sweetheart, but only because you are such a hero. I owe you my life, my darling."

"My love…" With that Anthony slipped back into unconsciousness. Robert and Cora exchanged looks.

After a respectful knock at the door, Dr Clarkson entered.

"Lady Grantham, Lord Grantham; I'm glad things are calmer in here than in the hallway. He started to examine Anthony's arm. "It's bedlam out there. The police are trying to take Mr Gregson away but he isn't going quietly, shall we say? You've done a good job here, ladies. I think all Sir Anthony will need is a few stitches and some rest. Has he come round at all?"

"Briefly, just before you came in, Doctor" Edith answered.

"That's fine. He'll come round properly once his body recovers from losing that much blood."

He opened one of Anthony's eyes and Anthony squirmed.

"Yes, he's just fainted. I'll do the stitches with a little sedative now."


	11. Chapter 11

Edith assisted Doctor Clarkson as he put the stitches in Anthony's arm. Even when Carson approached Robert to ask when he should serve dinner, Edith insisted that the rest of them go and eat, relenting only enough to agree that Carson ask Mrs Patmore to put up a plate for her to have later.

After working in silence for a few minutes, Clarkson spoke.

"It's lucky that it was his right arm. He won't be bothered by pain."

"Doesn't he have any feeling in that arm, Doctor?"

"No, none."

"Do you know how he was wounded in the war?" she asked, knowing that she should not.

"No, he's never told me. If I may make so bold, please don't ask him, my lady. He'll tell you if he wants to and he's able. And that's the last of the stitches. Now all we need to do is bandage him up. I think it might be a good idea to get him back to Locksley before the sedative wears off. He ought to rest and the sooner we get him to bed the better. But I'll need help. I don't think his chauffeur is quite up to it any more!"

"I'll ask Carson if we can borrow Jimmy …that is, James after dinner. Would you take a little dinner before we go, Doctor?"

"I wouldn't say no, Lady Edith. That's very kind of you."

So while Jimmy finished serving dinner, Clarkson and Edith ate from trays on their laps in the drawing room, keeping an eye on Anthony, who mercifully continued to sleep.

Once dinner was over, Jimmy, Carson, and Clarkson carried Anthony to his car. Edith had put a few things in a bag. No one was going to challenge her. She kissed her mother's cheek.

"I'll be back in the morning. He risked his life for me; I just have to look after him until I know for certain he will be well."

"Of course, dear. Doctor Clarkson, you will look after my baby, won't you?"

"Yes, my lady" answered Clarkson, getting into the front of the car, knowing exactly what the Countess meant. Edith got into the back beside Anthony and once they'd started down the drive, arranged herself so that he was leaning on her and she could both support and cuddle him.

The drive to Locksley was slow and steady, but uneventful. Anthony stayed still and sleepy and the wound wasn't jolted at all as Edith had his arm braced on hers.

Oakley and his wife were at the front door when the Rolls pulled up, but no one had had time to telephone them to tell them what had happened. As Edith told the tale Oakley went pale at the thought of what might have been. Mrs Oakley gave a little cry when she saw Sir Anthony, but even through her tears she was organised and capable.

"Will you be staying Lady Edith?" she asked, spying the overnight bag.

"Yes I will. It's the least I can do to help Doctor Clarkson when Sir Anthony put himself in danger for my sake."

"Have either of you eaten anything?"

"Yes, we got a bite at Downton, thank you Mrs Oakley" answered Doctor Clarkson.

Oakley and Clarkson carried a now moaning Anthony upstairs to his bedroom, where they undressed him and put him to bed, while Mrs Oakley wrung her hands and Edith tried to reassure her.

Edith almost ran up the stairs when Oakley came down to fetch her. She had never been upstairs at Locksley before, even when she and Anthony were engaged. She suddenly realised how very embarrassed Anthony would be when he woke to find her there. Perhaps she'd made a mistake by insisting that she held vigil by his bedside. But when she was ushered into his bedchamber and saw him she knew she couldn't be anywhere else. Clarkson was just checking on him and looked up when she entered.

"He was coming round with all the movement, but I think he's nodded off again now he's warm and comfortable. He'll sleep until he's ready to wake up naturally. Er, would you like me to keep an eye on him while you get some sleep, Lady Edith?"

"No, no, thank you Doctor. My place is at his side."

"Very well, but I promised your mother I wouldn't leave you alone with him. I'll just make myself comfortable over here" he said indicating an armchair in the corner. "Wake me if anything worries you."

"I will Doctor. Thank you" she said with a smile settling into a chair by Anthony's bedside.

* * *

_._

Propriety was so ridiculous sometimes, Edith thought as Anthony slept and Clarkson snored gently covered by a blanket in his chair. As if Anthony was in any fit state to be a threat to her chastity! Or could be a threat to her of any kind at any time! Or maybe they all thought she was a danger to his reputation. That, at least, was much more probable. She had stopped herself several times from kissing him as he lay in her arms in the back of the car on the way here. She was aching for him to wake and be well so they could talk about what had happened in the last two days: Mary's decision to break off the engagement, what she had told Edith in the library, Anthony's words to Gregson…it was all so much, so quickly. Did Anthony really still love her?

She looked around at the room; it was comfortable without being cluttered, a very masculine room. There were plenty of books in here too. She wondered if this was the room Anthony would have chosen for them both if the wedding had taken place.

* * *

_._

She was holding his hand and dozing herself when Anthony came to, just before dawn. He looked around and was pleased and relieved to find himself at home and in his own bed. He turned his head and saw Edith sitting by his bedside. The events of the previous evening rushed in and he gave an involuntary shudder when he thought of the danger she had been in. Clarkson gave a snort as he moved in his sleep and Anthony looked over at him. Well, at least that was one worry off of his mind. Edith's good name had been protected. Only then did he allow himself to melt into the thought that Edith, his darling Edith, had insisted that she stay by his side, because he was sure that the suggestion would not have come from her family, or indeed been accepted by them easily. She must have fought for him in her own way just as he had fought for her. His heart fluttered to realise that she was holding his hand in her sleep; briefly he considered putting his good arm around her shoulders and embracing her, but he thought better of it. Instead he laid his head back on the pillow and admired her beauty in the dawn light as he dozed off again.

* * *

_._

After breakfast, Doctor Clarkson asked Anthony if Edith and he could be ferried back to Downton; he to fetch his own car that he had left there the previous night.

"Of course." His voice was unsure.

"What's the matter?" asked Edith.

"You will come back to visit the wounded soldier, won't you?" There was a tiny quality of pleading in his voice.

"Of course. It would be the least I could do, and I want to. If it hadn't been for you, Gregson…"

"My dearest Edith, if it hadn't been for you, I would be dead. Really!" He reassured her firmly in response to her incredulity.

"Gregson was aiming that knife at my chest; I could see it but couldn't move out of the way fast enough. If you hadn't been so quick to give him your knee and knock him out of his aim, my dear, you'd be visiting me in Heathcote's the undertakers in the village rather than here."

The thought was unbearable. She ran over to him and hugged him at the sudden fear of it.

"My sweetheart, don't fret. Thanks to you it didn't happen. I owe you my life."

"I hadn't realised" she managed, just about keeping control of the tears.

He looked into her eyes then more deeply than ever before.

"My life is yours, and not just because you saved it" he whispered so only she could hear.

"As mine is yours, and always has been" she replied in the same serious tone of voice.

They looked at each other for a long moment, until Doctor Clarkson thought things had got intense enough.

"I have my rounds to complete and then surgery, Lady Edith. I'd be grateful if we could leave now. Sir Anthony needs rest. I will give permission for you to return the day after tomorrow."

* * *

_**Thank you again for all your reviews and messages. From now on we are bound on the good ship Fluff. More soon!  
**_


	12. Chapter 12

That day dragged on for Edith. She knew that Anthony was well enough now, that she didn't have to worry about his health, and that he would be back to normal in a day or so. She understood that he did need to sleep and rest and that Doctor Clarkson was right that he would get neither with her there at Locksley; he would insist on being a good host. No, the correct course of action was that she stay away for a couple of days.

But it was so hard. They had finally managed to talk, really talk, to one another again after eighteen months apart and nearly a fortnight of shocks and misunderstandings, culminating in his saving her life, and possibly she his, and she longed to talk more with him.

First, she had to face her family. When she arrived back at Downton with Clarkson, she was met by Carson, and then her mother appeared exchanging pleasantries with the Doctor and making sure that her instructions had been acted upon. Clarkson refused the offered cup of coffee, and they saw his little car start down the drive before Cora spoke.

"How was Sir Anthony?"

"Better. Tired and feeling a bit battered but up and about this morning."

"I'm glad. Mary filled your father and me in on what's been going on between the three of you recently. We want you to know that, if you and Anthony decide to try again, there will be no opposition: no snide remarks, no discussion about the future and what it may, or may not, hold. And the decision is up to you, my darling, you and Anthony. There is no pressure for you to take him if it isn't right for either of you any more."

Edith was stunned. Mary must have been quite forthright, and if she guessed correctly her mother would've told her father in no uncertain terms what was going to happen whether he liked it or not. Edith wondered who had spoken to Granny, if anyone.

"Granny too?"

"Especially your grandmother. I'm afraid she had a family delegation last night, all of us, me, your father, Mary, and Tom. Between you and me, I don't think she's ever been so dumbstruck in her entire life." Cora shot Edith a conspiratorial smirk, which was quickly suppressed.

"Oh Mama!" Edith hugged her mother and Cora hugged her back.

"My darling."

* * *

_._

Anthony watched from the window of the library as the Rolls made its way up the drive and was gone. After the drama of the last few hours that felt like a month he was very tired, and although he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday he hadn't felt hungry at breakfast. He made his way back up to his bedroom and laid himself down on top of the covers, where _she_ had placed her hands. Soon, he was sleeping again. When he woke at midday, he found that his arm had bled a little and needed redressing. He was also, finally, hungry. Instead of ringing for her, he went down to see Mrs Oakley. He found her in her little kitchen office looking over the week's grocery order.

"Mrs Oakley, if I might disturb you?"

"Ah, Sir Anthony, you're awake. How are you feeling now, Sir?"

"Still a bit woozy, but on the whole I think I'm mending. I'm afraid I've bled a little in my sleep; it's got on the covers."

"Not to worry, Sir. A bit of salt and cold water will get that out. Let's have a look at that arm. You'll be needing a new bandage. Doctor Clarkson left me a fresh supply."

Mrs Oakley unwrapped the old bandage carefully, cleaned the wound, which Anthony winced at seeing for the first time.

"That will add to my collection of scars."

"All of them earned in the service of honour, Sir Anthony" replied Mrs Oakley, who never heard her master's lack of self-esteem without arguing the opposite.

"Nevertheless…not much to look at, am I?"

"You are the most handsome man of your age in Yorkshire and more handsome than many a younger, Sir, and no mistake…" she looked up at him cautiously and added "…and that Lady Edith thinks so too."

Anthony looked at her, taken aback.

"I don't believe she would ever say such a thing" he said, hoping Mrs Oakley would contradict him.

"Not in as many words, no Sir, but with her eyes…and in words she did say how brave you had been defending her against that madman. She was all of a-flutter about it." Well, that was true, and the master needed to hear it. He needed all the encouragement he could get.

"She was very kind, Sir, comforting me after the shock I got seeing you laid out like that. She said you were the best, most wonderful man she'd ever known. And, of course, I agreed with her. Take the advice of an old woman, Sir Anthony: don't let her slip through your fingers a third time. You and she deserve some happiness."

Even through the delight that was pounding through his breast, he smiled indulgently and gratefully at the old housekeeper.

"Could you humour me a little more and try some soup and a sandwich?" she asked.

"You're a mind reader, Mrs Oakley!"

* * *

_._

_It is past two o'clock in the morning. Anthony rolls over in his sleep and she is there, his love, his own, looking so beautiful with the moonlight making her skin shimmer silver and her hair glow gold; she is ethereal, like an angel. He puts his hand on her bare shoulder. She stirs sleepily; gently and seductively placing her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. He kisses her lips slowly, her kisses are enticing, maddening. His lips trail down her neck to her bosom. He can't control himself any longer; he wants her; he must have her. With elation he realises she feels the same. Her breathing is as ragged as his. She moans 'Anthony' and he knows what she wants, what she commands him to do, and he is utterly unable to deny her. He positions himself and with a slow, sensuous, pleasuring pressure, he makes her his again. Here is heaven and all bliss. There is nothing on earth like her. Too soon, too soon, his triumph comes, and they collapse together in ecstasy…_

_._

…Anthony woke up to find that he'd had his first wet dream in, well, several decades. Embarrassing as this was, and Mrs Oakley was going to have a fit if he didn't get up and find a towel and do something about it _now_, Anthony couldn't deny to himself any longer that what he really wanted was a full marriage to the woman of his dreams. Yes, if their marriage was blessed with a new heir to the Strallan and the Grantham titles, that would be marvellous. But that was not the aim as it had been with Mary. Above all, he wanted Edith to be his wife and everything that meant. He would spend the rest of his life making sure that she was happy, and that he deserved the joy and wonder Edith would bring with her to Locksley. Today…he would ask her today.


	13. Chapter 13

_**First of all, let me reassure all readers that there is nothing more to fear - from here on we have nothing but fluff and happiness. Enjoy!**_

* * *

_._

The day dawned bright and clear; a lovely early summer's day. Edith chose for herself a white cotton dress with coral lace and ribbon trimmings. It both complemented and highlighted her colouring. She wanted to look her very best, for today she was going to visit Anthony again and she couldn't wait. The previous day and a half had been colourless without him.

She skipped downstairs to breakfast to be met with serious looks from her father, Tom, and Carson.

"Good morning, Edith. Come, sit down." Her father's tone was kinder than usual. Carson drew out a chair for her. She was totally confused. Robert took her hand. Realising they wanted to tell her something serious Edith panicked.

"What is it? What's the matter? Not Anthony! No, it can't be! Please say it isn't!"

"No, it's not Anthony" Robert reassured her. "It's Mr Gregson. We've just heard from Doctor Clarkson. The police were not keen to press charges regarding the attack on you and Anthony because Gregson raged incoherently in his cell all the night after he was arrested. Yesterday morning they asked Clarkson to sign the papers as a medical authority referring him to the Commissioners, petitioning for him to be committed to an asylum. The Commissioners met last night and agreed. Mr Gregson has this morning been taken back to London to be committed to an asylum nearer his home."

Robert paused, letting Edith take this in, and exchanging looks with Tom.

"You've had a very lucky escape, my dear. I'm so sorry that you have had to go through this."

"Poor Michael. There always was something…desperate about him. I mistook it for deep feeling for me. That's why I was flattered by his advances. But he'll be better looked after where he's going? Won't he?"

"Yes, dear, he will. He'll be safe there."

* * *

_._

It took Edith quite some time to come to terms with what had happened. After all was said and done, she had been fond of Michael Gregson. He had provided companionship and comfort with his friendship, and stimulation in allowing her to write, especially in the dark days after Anthony's disappearance from Downton Church. She felt guilty that her liaison with him seemed to have pushed him over an edge she hadn't known existed. Most of all, she wanted to talk to Anthony about it. Anthony had been her first thought on seeing the grave expression on her father's face. He was her first place of sanctuary now she felt distressed. She was sensible enough to ask for her father's chauffeur to take her over to Locksley rather than driving herself. She didn't think she would drive safely in her present state.

* * *

_._

Anthony had been up, bathed, shaved, and dressed by the time it was eight o'clock that morning. He felt a different man. His arm felt oddly numb, which he knew was as near to pain or feeling of any kind he would ever have in that limb again. Nevertheless, he was grateful that he didn't have to suffer the sort of agony he would've had to suffer if he'd had normal sensation. Mrs Oakley had washed the wound and dressed it again. Reassuringly it had not bled overnight, despite his lurid dreams and the thrashing about he'd done in his sleep (judging by the state the bedclothes were in, at any rate). Oakley had commented on the warmth of the weather and so after his bath Anthony had chosen to wear his cream linen suit. It was one of his favourites which he kept for summer and he felt very dapper in it. But everything today was going to be wonderful, because today was the first day that he had absolutely given up on any belief that he wasn't good enough for Lady Edith. She thought he was good enough for her. She'd told him that her life belonged to him! He'd risked his life for her and he'd proven himself. He was the next in line to be the Earl of Grantham, at present at least. Yes, he did have a lot to offer her. Today he would tell her how much he loved her. Today he was going to ask her to marry him, and this time all would be well, he was sure. He felt about thirty years of age again.

When her car arrived just after eleven o'clock, he went outside to meet her, unconsciously standing straighter than he had for many a year, wearing his signature crooked smile just a little more confidently. All of that changed when she alighted from the vehicle.

"Sir Anthony" she managed to uphold decorum even in her evident distress.

"Lady Edith! What's wrong?"

"Shall we go indoors?"

"Of course. Of course."

He led the way into the library and sat her on the chaise longue so he could sit by her. He looked into her eyes, his own creased with concern. She saw his anxiety and a warmth ran through her body; she felt so protected by him. It calmed her nerves without the need for another word from him.

"It's Michael. He's been sent to an asylum. He's spent the last two nights and yesterday raging at the world and at me. The police asked Doctor Clarkson and the local Lunatic Commissioners to adjudicate on him, and they have judged him insane. He's been taken home to London to be committed."

"I'm very sorry, my dear, but I can't say that I am surprised. I looked into his eyes when he had that go at me, and he was not in control of his wits then" Anthony replied. "He was wild with fear and with having had his plans thwarted. That's why he tried to assault you."

"I did that to him, Anthony. I didn't love him, yet I was selfish enough to take his comfort when I should have been more restrained. It was unfair on him. I gave him hope where there was none. I drove him mad, not with fear but with unrequited love." Having just about kept everything in check up until now, she looked up into Anthony's eyes, fearing that she would see disappointment or blame there, but of course, she saw nothing but love and sympathy. The tears would be held back no more.

"No, dearest. No, you are not to blame. That poor man couldn't be blamed for what he did either. My guess is that losing his wife to insanity affected him deeply. He found you, you sweet girl, with your kindness and charity and it was too much for him. You didn't try to drive him mad. It isn't your fault. Here, shh, shh." Anthony put his good arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him, rocking her slightly to comfort her. He waited until her sobs subsided, and then could hold himself back no longer. He placed a soft but long, lingering kiss into her hair. She felt it and froze. It was the most forward mark of affection he'd ever given her; the only place he'd ever kissed her previously having been her hands.

"Don't blame yourself, my love. If it hadn't been you, it would've been some other poor lady, of that I'm sure. Some men just have a disposition for it; perhaps that was part of the mutual attraction between him and his wife…perhaps. I do not believe you toyed with his affections or gave him reason to hope beyond giving him your friendship."

Edith released herself from his embrace to look at him again.

"But I can sympathise with poor Mr Gregson. You have the most remarkable effect on me as well."

Edith looked down, blushing.

"I hope I haven't driven you mad, Anthony" she whispered.

"Oh very nearly, my dearest girl, very nearly" he said affectionately. "Now, you look as though you could do with a drink, and probably something a little stronger than tea. Am I correct?" He crossed the room and pressed the bell by the side of the mantel.

"But it's only half past eleven, Anthony."

"You've had a shock, my dear. So have I, come to that. We'll both feel better for it, I'm sure. Call it an aperitif!"

When Oakley arrived Anthony requested two cups of cocoa with crème de menthe.

"I hope you'll like it. It was my favourite warming tipple at Cambridge. The winters there are very cold."

"What were you like then, Anthony?" Edith asked, intrigued, and successfully distracted from the subject of Mr Gregson's insanity, just as Anthony had hoped.

"Tall, gangly, bookish, terribly keen on punting but not very good at it, shy…impossibly so around women. Much like now really! You didn't miss much! Would you like to have gone to university, Edith?"

"Yes, I would. Well, there's still time, I suppose…" she frowned "…but Papa wouldn't hear of it."

"There might be ways of convincing him that it's a good idea."

"How?" she challenged.

"I will put my mind to it, my sweet one." He gave her his lopsided smile, and all the cares of her life slipped away.

Oakley returned with the cocoa and they drank it, enjoying the sweetness of the beverage and feeling the warmth of the alcohol reviving them.

"You do have a sweet tooth, don't you Anthony?"

"It is uncouth of me to indulge such a habit that should have been shed when I left the nursery, but yes I do. Do you think less of me for it?"

"Not at all. I think lots of gentlemen like sweet things and deny it. You are just being honest: one of your many virtues. For instance, you told Mary that you almost kissed me in the library, didn't you?"

The atmosphere dropped from warm to very cool. Anthony stiffened and turned his head away from her in shame.

"I felt she had a right to know what a cad she was marrying." Suddenly, he was stooped again and Edith regretted mentioning it.

"I don't think you were a cad. Not at all. You didn't kiss me; you never have. You confessed your feelings to Mary, and everything turned out well in the end. Those aren't the actions of a cad."

He was still turned away from her, his shoulders hunched.

"Am I right? That is what happened, no? Your feelings…?" She left the question hanging unanswered. "A cad would not have put himself in danger to save me from Michael's ravings, even if you did say you'd made love to me and my mother believed it."

He swung around, aghast.

"Oh, oh my dear! I'm so sorry. I never meant to…to put you in an awkward position. I was trying to think of things to say that would get his attention and make him release you. I didn't…oh, good god, did your father believe it too? He'll be round here with a shotgun!"

Edith put her hand to his cheek, and with a smile stilled his panic.

"I explained it all, don't worry. My family think you are wonderful for saving my life at risk to your own."

He was transfixed, saying nothing for a long while, gazing into her eyes. Then he coughed self consciously.

"Would you care for a drive after luncheon perhaps? I think I need a little air."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thank you all so much for continuing to read and review. More over the top romantic fluff...**_

* * *

_._

Anthony's chauffeur drove them up to the Dales for a leisurely spin and back again. Anthony had been right and a little fresh air drove away the last of the sadness that the crème de menthe and a relaxed luncheon had not. It was still just a little cold in the open-topped car, even under the blanket Anthony had placed over both their knees more for her own comfort, and for the sensation of being under the same cover as Edith, than for his own warmth. Edith was very happy to be out in the countryside, enjoying both the sunshine and the feeling of heat from Anthony as she tucked into his side.

"I haven't asked how your arm is. How insensitive of me!" Edith suddenly exclaimed.

"No, my dear, I take it as a compliment. I can't have been suffering from it too obviously, can I? I've got a strange sensation there, which I presume to be pain which isn't properly registering because of my war wound. But it is not unpleasant, and it is healing well. Mrs Oakley washes and dresses it as well as the best nurse."

Edith went quiet, suddenly quite jealous of Mrs Oakley.

* * *

_._

When they returned from their jaunt, Edith suggested playing cards. Try as she might to let Anthony win, Edith won every hand, and she suspected…no, she _knew_ that Anthony was letting _her_ win.

"It's called reverse ambition, my sweet" murmured Anthony with an elegant, mischievous smirk. He hadn't really noticed the endearments creeping into his every utterance to Edith. "I want to know how many times and how badly I can lose to you without your being able to over take me."

"Really? Well, we'll see about that!" And Edith promptly managed to 'lose' to him three times in a row.

* * *

_._

Oakley came in around four o'clock with the tea, and asked whether Lady Edith would be staying to dinner. Anthony looked at her pleadingly.

"I do hope you will."

There was something about his desire that she should stay that was more than just politeness, or even friendliness. There was something he _needed_ her there for.

"If I'm not outstaying my welcome, I would love to stay to dinner, thank you, Sir Anthony. Thank you, Mr Oakley."

"Shall I inform Downton, my lady?"

"Thank you for thinking of that, Mr Oakley. I'd be grateful if you could."

"Very good, my lady."

The big beaming smile on Anthony's face as he poured the tea for them was all the confirmation that she needed.

* * *

_._

"Would you thank Mrs Oakley for that delicious dinner for me, in case I don't get down this evening?" Anthony said to Oakley as he cleared the last of the dinner plates away.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Sir."

Anthony leaned to him and asked in a whisper "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Sir" replied Oakley _sotto voce_.

Anthony returned his attention to Edith.

"Would you care to take an after dinner turn with me around the orchard?"

"But it's dark…"

His eyes burned at her, bluer than she'd ever seen them before.

"Trust me?" he said holding out his good hand to her. She put her hand in his.

"Always."

"Would you fetch our cloaks please, Oakley?"

Oakley bowed as he left.

"I know you have something afoot, Sir Anthony, but I can't make out what."

"Then you will have to wait and see, Lady Edith."

He led her out to the hallway where Oakley was standing holding Anthony's opera cloak and hat, and something red which Anthony took from him. As he spread it out, Edith could see it was a long ladies' cloak, hooded, made of red velvet lined with red silk with a delicate filigree pattern traced out round the edges in gold thread. It was beautiful.

"Sorry, but that isn't mine" Edith began.

"But…it is" said Anthony quietly and simply. "I bought it for you eighteen months ago as one of your wedding presents. I intended to give it to you on the honeymoon that never happened. It would please me very much if you would allow me to give it to you now."

Edith was close to tears.

"Oh Anthony…well, of course, but…oh, it's beautiful."

He draped it carefully over her shoulders and she fastened it with the chain at the front. Oakley put Anthony's cloak over his white tie and tails, handed him his top hat, then opened the front door for the couple. Anthony offered Edith his arm, and she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, almost shaking with anticipation.

Once they were outside, Edith squeezed Anthony's arm.

"We're a bit over dressed for a stroll in the garden, aren't we?"

"Merely keeping up standards. I take my position in the county very seriously." He tried to say it with deadly earnestness, but couldn't quite keep the giggle out of his voice and smile.

"And can I ask whether I am supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood?"

"Oh, blast! I hoped you wouldn't think that"

"Sorry!"

"I just thought the colour would suit you…and it does. Well, if you do have to cast yourself in that role, may I be the woodcutter?"

"You're far too well dressed for that, but yes. Anyway, you've proved yourself to be my rescuer already."

With a mixture of pride and desire catching his breath, Anthony had no words to continue the analogy. They walked a little further by the side of the house.

"What a very clear night" Edith observed. Anthony looked up to see hundreds of stars illuminating the night sky.

"My father used to take me out star-gazing. We'd lie in one of the fields away from the lights of the house and he taught me the constellations that way." He drew his gaze from the heavens down to Edith's upturned face, rapt at his words.

"I've never told anyone about that before. It's my most precious memory of my father."

They turned the corner at the back of the house to the orchard behind. Edith stopped and stared. In each tree were hung at least five jam jars each containing a night light. Down each path between the lines of trees were more candles, all giving a soft, enchanting glow.

"Come" Anthony murmured gently taking his arm from Edith's and casting it around her shoulders.

"It's…it's so magical!" she whispered.

"I had the very devil of a time trying to convince Hargreaves the gardener that I wouldn't set fire to the entire orchard and the house with it. But, as you can see, in the end I prevailed. I wanted everything today, and tonight, to be perfect. I've got so many things wrong in the past…"

He withdrew his arm, took his hat off and placed it on the ground. He then took both her hands in his good one and knelt before her.

"My dearest darling, we've been through so much, both of us; and I dare not hope that you can forgive me for all my mistakes. Nevertheless, will you marry me?"

Looking into Anthony's eyes, sparkling in the candlelight, and knowing that today had indeed been perfect, and not just because of the cloak and the candles and all the other little expressions of affection Anthony had paid her, it was all Edith could do to nod her agreement through her tears of joy.

"Yes, a thousand times; and, of course I have forgiven you, you dear idiot!"

"I promise you that this time, all will go to plan!"

"I didn't doubt it for a moment, my love" she said.

Anthony started visibly at her endearment. He got to his feet, more eagerly than was probably seemly, and placed his arm around her waist inside her cloak, a serious look on his face. The last time he had proposed to her, they had been in the middle of a very strange dinner party, surrounded by her family and her family's friends, so he had not had the chance to kiss her then. He had never had the belief that she was really his, that he had any right to kiss her afterwards.

Now, here on his own estate, gaining courage from the earth to which he was tied by blood and breeding, and from the love shining in her softly illuminated eyes, he knew that her kiss was a prize he had won. All he had to do was claim it. Very slowly, very gently he pressed his lips to hers. For both of them the kiss was full of still, quiet promise like today's warm early summer's day after years of unforgiving winter. He pressed his mouth to her again without really retreating, and she passed her hands over his chest under his tailcoat up to his bare neck. When she opened her lips to him he felt something in him break, like ice falling from his soul. He was totally lost in her, pulling her to him closer still, his body remembering what it was like to be a man making love to the woman he adored, and who adored him. She really did want him; it wasn't the kiss of a romantic young girl who didn't know what she was doing. He let go some of his restraint and passed his tongue over her lips and was surprised and aroused beyond his expectations when she responded in kind.

His kiss was not what Edith had expected. In fact, nothing today had been as she had expected. She didn't know what had given Anthony this extra confidence he'd had today, but she gave thanks for it whatever it was. He was so much more demonstrative and…well, _ardent_ than he had ever been before. It was marvellous. He was still her wonderful, awkward, shy Anthony, but with a breathless excitement about him. And this kiss…this first kiss…was it still their first kiss, or did his little renewals count as separate caresses?…oh she had no words. She just kissed him back as she had done a thousand times in her dreams.

Anthony left her mouth and trailed his own down her neck, moving his hand from her waist down to her derrière, simultaneously pulling her to him and pressing himself closer to her.

"My darling, the world would be so wonderful if only I could make sweet love to you…"

"Then…why don't you?" she whispered huskily.

"I couldn't dishonour you like that. But, please, my sweet, let us not have a long engagement."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Time to tell the family...**_

* * *

_._

_"My darling, the world would be so wonderful if only I could make sweet love to you…"_

_"Then…why don't you?" she whispered huskily._

_"I couldn't dishonour you like that. But, please, my sweet, let us not have a long engagement."_

"We will go as slowly or as quickly as you want, my love" she answered.

He kissed her again, with more ease and familiarity this time. Her hands found their way into his hair, as his settled on her hip subtly keeping her body close to his. They kissed until Edith shivered involuntarily.

"You're cold, sweetheart! Let me take you back to the house, and then, I suppose, I must let you go. It's quite late."

His voice was small and sad at the thought as he picked up his hat, and they began to retrace their steps, holding hands. About half way there, Edith suddenly stopped.

"This will probably be the last time we are allowed to be alone until the wedding. I can't wait another moment to kiss you again, let alone weeks. So…" She paused, not quite believing her forwardness. In a demanding voice she said "Kiss me!...Kiss me, Anthony!" adding in a much quieter, more uncertain tone "...please?"

Anthony seemed to be having difficulty breathing. He couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. He had only just managed to bring himself to believe that Edith loved him, and now suddenly in front of him was evidence that she actually _desired_ him too. In one graceful movement, he stepped quickly to her, pushing her firmly but with care to the side of the house so he could press his body close to her _and _use his good hand to caress her back, her hips, and, very delicately, her breasts, while all the time kissing her madly. Edith let out a small whimper both of happiness that Anthony had obeyed her, and of surprise at his eagerness to do so.

But there was something she couldn't bear. She broke the kiss.

"Anthony, please, what is that pressing into me? It's very uncomfortable."

Anthony paled. Perhaps she was more innocent than he had thought. Had he gone too far, too fast? He immediately reined himself in.

"Erm…that's…er…"

Edith laughed.

"Not that, silly! I know what _that_ is! And don't think that I don't…well…appreciate it. No, I mean that hard thing in your waistcoat pocket?"

"Oh, good grief! I almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me."

He took her left hand and laid it on his useless one, before taking the engagement ring out from the pocket of his dress waistcoat. He cleared his throat, the better to express his sincerity.

"New engagement, new beginning, new ring" he said as he placed it on her finger.

Edith stared at it. It was a solitaire ruby set in a filigree of gold, not unlike that adorning her cloak. Diamonds were set within the pattern of the wrought metal. It didn't quite fit.

"I'm sorry: it's a bit loose. I tried to remember what size fitted you but for the life of me…"

Edith placed her fingers on his lips.

"It's perfect, Anthony. Terribly, wonderfully…perfect! I do love you, Anthony."

"And I love you so much, my dearest darling. Oh god! How I love you!" He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her again.

Minutes later, as they stood out of breath with their foreheads and noses touching, Edith felt her tears come.

"What is it, darling?" Anthony asked, still worried something would go wrong.

"I don't want this night to end. I don't want to leave you!" Edith cried.

"And I don't want you to go" replied Anthony. "But I will come to Downton first thing in the morning to talk with your father. But you can tell them before then if you want to, of course."

"I want us to tell them together, please. I don't think I can face them alone."

"Then that's what will happen, and I can't tell you how glad I am you said that. When it comes to your grandmother, I'll admit it: I'm a coward."

"You and everyone else, my darling."

"My darling. My darling…" he murmured.

"What?"

"I just like saying it, darling."

"Darling" she smiled.

"This could go on all night! We really had better get you home."

* * *

_._

Next morning at nine o'clock, the Rolls drew up to the front door of Downton Abbey.

"Sir Anthony's getting earlier" observed Carson. "At this rate, next week he'll be here for breakfast!"

"I might keep you to that, Carson" muttered Lady Edith as she came to stand beside him.

"My apologies, my lady, I didn't see you there" the butler harrumphed.

"Morning Carson" smiled a very happy-looking Sir Anthony as Carson opened the door for him. "Good morning, Lady Edith. You are looking…particularly radiant this morning." The joy in his eyes was something he couldn't hide try as he might, and he didn't feel the need to do so anyway.

"Good morning, Sir Anthony. My father is in the library." She took his offered arm and matched his conspiratorial grin. "You look much better this morning. How is your arm?"

"Thank you for asking. It is healing very well, I'm glad to say." He looked behind him and finding that Carson had made himself scarce and no one was watching them, pulled Edith into the dining room, closed the door, and kissed her fervently.

"My love…" he murmured his lips against hers. "I've missed you so."

"We've only been apart roughly nine hours" she answered, not convincing him…or herself.

"Too long" he whispered.

"I agree! Oh Anthony! I do like you like this."

He pulled back.

"Like what?!"

"You are doing a very creditable impression of Romeo. And I like it!"

"I'm far too old to be Romeo. No! You can't argue with that! I really am! About thirty years too old! And anyway we've already had more than our fair share of tragedy. I refuse to admit that there's ever going to be anything more in our love story but light and happiness. Now, are you wearing your ring?"

"I was waiting until you got here" she said, pulling it from her skirt pocket and slipping it on. "It is so beautiful, Anthony. I spent a lot of time last night just looking at it!"

He took her arm again.

"Let's go and show it to your family."

* * *

_._

"I beg your pardon?" asked Robert.

Anthony tried again, and as always when he was nervous, he babbled.

"Lord Grantham, as you know I asked Lady Mary to marry me out of duty and because I believed that to be your request. At least, that was the impression I got from Murray. She and I both knew the marriage was destined to be a disaster, and I am forever grateful to her for breaking it off when she realised how miserable it would have made all three of us: her, Lady Edith, and me. I didn't ask for your blessing then because, as I said, I believed it to be your wish. But now…"

Anthony's polite oratory failed him as his true feelings broke through.

"…Robert, you know what happened last time. I beg you…I need to have your blessing. I really do. I assure you I love her, so very much, and she has convinced me that she loves me, though god knows why. Please…"

…

_Robert was grateful to Anthony for the clear explanation. He hadn't really kept up with the events of the last few days. In fact, everything in his world, his title, and his home appeared to have left him behind and he resented it._

_But here was Anthony, even in his agony, nobly adhering to the coded and formal behaviour that was as old and as outmoded as the two of them there in that library. All of a sudden, Robert knew he would always be able to rely on Anthony. That he could rely on him in a way that it was unfair of Robert to expect of Tom, who hadn't been bred for the life he found himself in. It gave Robert so much relief: with Anthony he didn't have to face all these responsibilities and all the inevitable changes alone anymore. It gave him the courage to meet the future; Matthew, for all his virtues, had not been able to offer Robert that reassurance; he only brought challenges. Anthony was an ally. And Edith loved him._

…

"Anthony, my dear chap! My blessing, my gratitude, my warmest welcome to the family – again! You have them all. And I know you love Edith. We've all known. It only surprises me that it's taken so long and so much for you two to settle it finally. I know I haven't always been supportive and I am sorry for it, but that is far, far behind us. I'm so very glad for you both. Where is Edith?"

Stunned, with tears in his eyes, Anthony could only mutter "Waiting outside."

Robert threw open the door.

"Edith, my darling girl!"

"Papa!"

* * *

_._

Telling the rest of the family at the main house was an easy cocktail of hugs, smiles, and tears. Even Carson found it in his heart to nod at Sir Anthony and his consideration in reassuring him (_him! The Butler!_) that Sir Anthony wouldn't be bolting this time. Mary looked very pleased with herself, especially as she had convinced Cora that wedding arrangements would still be needed and that nothing should be cancelled yet. And Edith admitted that this time Mary really had something to be pleased about.

Telling Cousin Violet was an altogether different challenge. Cora was confident that the family delegation a few days previously would have softened the Dowager, but this did nothing to soothe Anthony's nerves.

Violet arrived just before luncheon. On seeing Anthony in the library, standing up at her entrance, she merely muttered "Sir Anthony" in response to his polite "Good day, Lady Grantham." Edith opened her mouth to speak, but Anthony made a snap decision to beat her to it. Edith, he thought, should not have to fight all the battles with her family. He approached her.

"Lady Grantham, I…I have news I fear you will find unwelcome. I have asked for Lady Edith's hand in marriage."

Before he could continue, Violet regarded him with a withering look.

"Again?"

"Yes, Lady Grantham, in fact for nearly the third time, and, god willing, this time all will go to plan."

"Not my plan, I can assure you, Sir Anthony!" snorted Violet.

"Do you not want me to be happy, Granny?" The quiet voice was hardly recognisable as Edith's.

"That's precisely why I want you to find someone…more suitable, my dear" Violet replied, in a tone so patronising that Anthony finally lost his cool.

Other men losing their tempers shouted and raged. When he was angry, Anthony unfailingly became quiet and deliberate. He stood up straight in front of the Dowager, with proud hauteur.

"More suitable than the heir to the Earldom of Grantham? More suitable than a man who has fought and been wounded in the service of his country? More suitable than a man who loves her more than any other man ever could, Lady Grantham, and has done so for nearly a decade? What other man proudly wears a wound to prove how he defended her against a madman?"

Without taking his eyes off Violet, Anthony reached out and took Edith's hand, silently asking her to stand by him. When she did so, he deliberately put his arm around her shoulders.

"Lady Edith loves me, Lady Grantham. That in itself fills me with the courage of a hundred men. Knowing that she loves me means I can, and will, take on the world if need be...beginning with you."

Violet could only look at him, all disdain wiped from her face. Eventually, she looked from him to Edith.

"Well, it appears that you have inspired your fiancé to find his backbone, at least, Edith, dear. I'm sure we can work on the rest."

"Granny!? Do you mean you will you accept…?"

"I'm not totally unreasonable, my dear. And I do like a man who knows what he's up against, and yet still has the courage to do what he needs to do. I may…_may_…have misjudged you, Sir Anthony."

Edith hugged her grandmother.

"Oh, stop it, girl. I came here for some lunch. I'm not up to being embraced until I've had some proper food!"

* * *

_**Thank you all again for being so kind. Your reviews are so very welcome and cheering. I hope these chapters of fluff have made up for the high melodrama and inappropriate matchmaking earlier in the story!  
**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**The engagement becomes a strain for our lovely couple.**_

* * *

_._

And so the date for Anthony and Mary's wedding became the date for Anthony and Edith's wedding.

As Edith had predicted, the family, particularly Violet, Robert, and Cora, made sure that they chaperoned the engaged couple wherever and whenever they were together, which was every day now that Anthony had been accepted by everyone. After three weeks, the strain of enforced emotional control was beginning to take its toll on Edith. She had waited so long to be together with Anthony. Now that all the worst obstacles had been conquered, all she wanted to do was to be with him and become acquainted with this wonderful, different relationship with him.

Yet he was always polite and gentlemanly. He kissed her chastely on the cheek, or her temple, or her hand, and restrained himself from taking any other favours. It was so infuriating! She wanted him to kiss her as he had done that night at Locksley when he'd proposed. She began to wonder whether everything was quite alright, whether he did actually love her.

* * *

_._

They had been placed together at the dinner table for the first time in ages it seemed to Edith. She was so relieved. They had got through to the dessert companionably enough, but the temptation was too strong for her. She slipped her foot out of her shoe and gently pressed it up against Anthony's leg. She saw him lose focus on what her mother was saying to him and his body become tense, but he did not look at her. But neither did he move his leg. So she continued further up, from his ankle to his calf making teasing motions with her toes. Anthony swallowed hard, and he was beginning to go a fetching shade of pink, but still he stubbornly kept looking at his side-plate. She let her hand fall below the table and placed it nonchalantly on his knee. At last Anthony turned to her, but with a look of such pain, pleading, and disappointment that Edith immediately jumped back. It felt just like being told off by her nanny when she was little, although no words had been spoken. Her mother seemed to have been unaware of the whole incident, or deliberately ignored it, and finished her conversation with Anthony before leading the ladies through to the drawing room.

Edith was sitting quietly nursing her coffee when Mary sat herself next to her.

"What's the matter?" Mary asked.

"Nothing. Nothing. Just tired, that's all."

Mary gave her sister a look that said 'don't try to lie to me, Edith, you can't do it as well as I can'.

Edith sighed.

"When you and Matthew were engaged, did you ever manage to find a few minutes just to be alone together?"

"That's what's wrong, is it? Well, I suppose we weren't really allowed much freedom, except for a few minutes to say 'goodnight'. But it's perfectly normal to feel…keen."

"I'm feeling…I don't think…Mary, _I am keen_, but I don't think Anthony is." Mary's amused smile disappeared immediately, and was replaced with concern.

"What do you mean?"

"This evening, I tried to…well, play footsie with him, and he…warned me off. He hasn't attempted to kiss me since the morning after he proposed. I'm…I'm so…frightened." Her words trailed off into the tears she'd been fighting since dinner.

Mary put a comforting hand on Edith's.

"How about I chaperone you tomorrow and we visit Locksley…and I'll just suddenly find that I have to visit the bathroom for twenty minutes or so. Do you think that would give you enough time to sort things out?"

Edith looked at her elder sister with gratitude. She wiped her eyes as the gentlemen entered.

"Leave it to me" Mary said as she stood and approached Anthony followed by Edith.

"Sir Anthony, Edith would like to come over to Locksley tomorrow to discuss plans, what she will need for the honeymoon and that sort of thing. If we came round about four would that be convenient for you?"

"Yes, yes, of course" Anthony smiled at them both, but he was certainly hiding something.

* * *

_._

Edith took Mary's advice and tried to catch Anthony as he was leaving that night, but Robert was still talking to him as Carson helped him into his coat, and by the time Robert bade him goodnight and he and Carson retreated back to the drawing room, the Rolls had already been brought around.

"Good night, my dear. I'll see you tomorrow for tea."

Anthony leaned down to her to kiss her cheek, but Edith was too quick for him and pressed her lips to his. His reaction took her completely by surprise. She'd expected him to withdraw as he had done at dinner. But once he'd recovered from the surprise, he kissed her back forcefully. Then stopped just as suddenly, and rested his forehead on hers for a moment.

"What's wrong, my love? Anthony?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I love you."

He kissed her mouth again very quickly and left without another word.

* * *

_._

As arranged, Edith and Mary rode over to Locksley the next day for tea. After some delicious sandwiches and cake, and teasing conversation as the two sisters tried to winkle a few details about the honeymoon out of Sir Anthony, and the gentleman easily brushed their interrogation away with an amused smile, Mary let her head swim a little before making her excuses. She gave Edith an encouraging look as she left the library.

"Do you think Mary's alright?" Anthony looked concerned.

"Yes" replied Edith so definitely that Anthony looked mildly shocked as Edith sat next to him on the chaise longue.

"Yes, it was her idea in fact. A way to allow us a little time alone together; she'll be back in twenty minutes and no one need know."

She leaned up to Anthony and tried to look beguiling although she felt more nervous than she ever would have admitted.

"Anthony. Are you alright? You haven't even kissed me properly until last night. And what I did at dinner…have I…have I done something wrong?"

"Oh, of course not, my sweet one." He looked at her intensely then, as though really seeing her properly for the first time in three weeks. He looked down to her mouth, leaned forward and kissed her every bit as passionately as he had after his proposal, and with a lot more desperation. His tongue was in her mouth, his arm was round her waist. Edith lost herself in it; she'd longed for this, dreamt of it alone in her room. This was heaven; this was the marriage she was looking forward to so very much. Anthony's kiss went on until Edith couldn't help herself. Feeling dizzy with joy she leant backwards on the chaise and Anthony followed her.

It was all Anthony could do not to kiss Edith all over her body, even though she was fully clothed. He wanted to worship every inch of her; he wanted to own her. For weeks he had only just kept himself in check. But now he was kissing her and caressing her with his good arm, holding her to him, and felt her keening towards him and leaning backwards at the same time, and he almost lost himself then and there. Soon, just as he knew he would be, he was beyond words, feeling himself pressed up against her from her lips to her womanhood. She was underneath him, where he'd imagined her so often, he was completely lost to her. It took Edith's words to bring him back from the edge.

"Make love to me, Anthony" she breathed in his ear, and he knew from her voice that it was up to him to stop this.

With difficulty at first, and then with disgust at himself and his actions, he leapt up from the chaise and walked over to the mantelpiece to steady himself leaning against the wall. He took a few seconds to recover his breath before speaking as levelly as he could.

"Lady Edith, I must ask you to forgive me, but I must leave this room. I…I cannot be trusted alone with you. I know we have both found the last few weeks to be difficult, but there is a reason for the tradition of chaperoning engaged couples. It is because men like me are a danger to their fiancées' chastity and reputation. We will be married in five weeks; it isn't so very long in the great scheme of things."

He walked swiftly to the door.

"That's codswallop!"

Her exclamation stopped him in his tracks.

"I've never heard such tripe! Anthony, you are the most honourable man I've ever met. It's one of the reasons I love you so much, even if occasionally it can be very frustrating. I'm truly sorry for…losing control just now, and last night at dinner. It's just that you've been so distant, I was beginning to fear that you didn't love me."

"Edith…" Anthony began, the pain her words had caused him writ all over his features.

"It's alright, Anthony. I understand now. Nevertheless, I will not allow you to call yourself a danger to me. You were the one to stop a minute ago, despite how far we'd both gone. You stopped yourself, and I know you always would. Yes, I accept that physically you are quite capable of ravishing me on a sofa, should you wish to. I just don't believe that you would ever let yourself do that until we are married….And when we are married I hope you will still wish to."

She gave him a shy little smile at her attempt to flirt, even as she apologised.

He looked at her blankly for a few moments.

"I am flattered by your faith in me. I hope you are right. But you must believe that I love you more than worlds, and not try to tempt me under the dinner table any more. I almost died last night!"

She gave a nervous little laugh, which he echoed. Then he kissed her on the mouth, gently this time, with infinite tenderness, both of them far more calm and confident than they had been for some time.

And that is how Mary found them when she came back in after twenty minutes.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Happy ending...**_

* * *

.

From then on, Anthony and Edith made sure that they stole a few moments as they said goodnight, just to kiss and reassure each other that their 'good behaviour' at other times and in company was only convention. This solution worked well, and with all the preparations to be settled and all the busy-ness of the wedding the rest of the engagement flew by.

At dinner the night before the wedding, Edith was wearing a peach velvet dress trimmed with purple ribbon. Anthony knew he'd been staring at her over dinner, but it was so close to the wedding now – just over twelve hours – and he thought that, at last, he could cut himself some slack. He wasn't left alone with Robert in the dining room this time after the ladies left, for which he was grateful. Tom had been chatting about something or other, while Anthony made polite non-committed responses. Suddenly, Robert seemed to make up his mind about something.

"Anthony, I've been meaning to say to you…and I don't know how we've got to this point without my finding a suitable moment…but we'd all be very happy if you and Edith wanted to live here after you get back from honeymoon."

Anthony was stunned.

"That's…that's very generous of you, thank you Robert. But Locksley is my home. It always has been. I realise, though, that it would make sense, and of course I'll discuss it with Edith."

"Yes, yes, think it over." Anthony was relieved that Robert didn't seem too disappointed by his answer.

"Please do. I could do with another ally in the house!" Tom's remark was given with a smile, but it was obvious to Anthony, if not to Robert, that it was genuinely felt.

"You'll always have that, Tom" Anthony reassured him.

* * *

_._

"May I say how stunning you look this evening, my dearest?"

They were standing by the front door. Carson had just left the two of them together, Edith helping Anthony with his coat. She blushed at his words as she was smoothing the heavy coat onto his shoulders, but before she could think of a suitable riposte he had spun around and caught her up in his good arm, pulling her to him. He kissed her urgently, as he had wanted to all evening. She threw her arms around his neck as best she could to respond to his caress.

"My darling" he whispered when he reluctantly freed his lips from hers "it appears you are marrying a man whose self-control you have ripped from him! I can't keep my eyes off of you when we are in company, and when we are alone…"

"That's just how I feel about you, my love!" she breathed, her hand on his cheek.

"God knows why!"

"Because you are the most beautiful, sweetest, most loving man I've ever met! I've told you before: don't do yourself down."

"No, my sweet one."

"Now go home before I seduce you and ruin all Mama's plans!"

He kissed her again before leaving, both of them smiling and slightly breathless.

* * *

_._

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

Mr Travis breathed a sigh of relief that nothing untoward had happened, and even turned a blind eye to the rather involved kiss that Sir Anthony was giving his new bride. After all, it only lasted a couple of seconds, and then they began to walk down the nave, arm in arm, and the Vicar thought he could relax again.

"I haven't had a chance to say how devastatingly beautiful you are in that dress, Lady Edith" Anthony murmured as they were smiling at the guests packed into Downton Church.

"And I haven't been able to tell you how handsome you look, Sir Anthony, in your new morning suit" Edith replied.

"You got a new wedding dress; I thought 'why shouldn't I have a new outfit too?' "

He helped her into the Rolls and followed himself. The car moved off on its short journey to Downton Abbey for the reception. Anthony wore his trademark crooked smile as he admired his wife.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she asked, amused.

"If I did that, my dear, I don't think we'd be able to get out of the car until it was time to leave for the honeymoon. No, I will mark my marriage by turning over a new leaf and finding my discipline again. We will arrive at your parents' house dignified and stately: just what they won't expect!"

"I think that might be grounds for divorce, Sir…refusing to kiss your wife" Edith smirked.

"Oh! Well, if that's the position…you drive a hard bargain, Lady Edith Strallan."

With that he kissed her lightly on the cheek. Edith hit him with the bouquet and grabbed his lapels, drawing him into a proper kiss, at least as much as they could, they were giggling so much.

* * *

_._

Violet took another glass of Champagne from one of the footmen.

"Do you think she's _really_ happy?" she asked Mary.

"Without a doubt, Granny. I'm very happy for them both, as you should be."

"I've never done anything I _should_ have in my life. I find it much better to do what I want to do, and make everyone think of it as the thing that should've been done. That way round suits me much better."

"Granny, you do realise all your granddaughters took after you?"

Mary smiled a self-satisfied smile to herself as she walked away from Violet's astonished expression. She wasn't really noticing where she was going in the milling crowds. Afterwards she couldn't really say whether he bumped into her, or she bumped into him, but a tall man of about thirty-five suddenly was making contact with her more forcefully than was polite, or indeed, intended.

"Good heavens! I'm so sorry, so very sorry. Please accept my apologies. Let me get you another drink." The man found a nearby footman and procured another glass for Mary.

"Thank you…er…"

"Lord Anthony Gillingham. Aren't you…?"

"Lady Mary Crawley."

Lord Anthony took Mary's hand and kissed it.

"I'm charmed to meet you, Lady Mary" he smiled.

* * *

_._

It was all that Sir Anthony and Lady Edith Strallan could do to stay relatively upright on the drive back to Locksley. Edith began kissing Anthony's cheek and jawline before they'd left the drive at Downton. Between that and the Champagne Anthony thought he might faint from pure joy. He'd done it! After nearly ten years, he'd actually married Lady Edith, the woman of his dreams. How could he, how could any man stay calm and composed with this angel of a girl trying to seduce him in the back of his own car!

"Do you remember when you took me for a drive in this car, before the War?"

"I was meant to be courting Mary. History repeats itself, doesn't it? Yes, of course I remember. It was during that drive that I fell in love with you."

"And I you."

"You can't have, not that early. You were, what, nineteen? What would a beautiful nineteen-year-old see in a forty-year-old codger?"

"Anthony! You promised me you were not going to criticise yourself or disbelieve my affections any more! I did fall in love for you on that drive. I fell more in love with you when you took me to that concert in York."

"We should have been married that year. I'm sorry, my darling. I've wasted so much time."

"Perhaps we had to go through all that to really appreciate each other. And I do appreciate you, my husband."

Anthony saw the love in her eyes and knew it to be true.

"I love you. I love you so very, very much, my wife."

* * *

_._

**_Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, and sticking with me while I explored the ramifications of the entail._**

**_I hope you don't mind the lack of a wedding night: there are so many wonderful stories by talented writers that include one. And I don't want to exhaust my muse, because the next story is going to be much, much fluffier than even these last few chapters. Watch this space!_**


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